


I Would

by GeckoBoy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Angst, Bilingual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Delinquent Lance, Gay Keith (Voltron), Guitarist Lance (Voltron), Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Music, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of drugs and alcohol, Past Relationship(s), Pining Lance (Voltron), Recreational Drug Use, Shiro is done with everybody's shit, That shitty band au nobody asked for, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, or just bad with people in general, very bad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-04-24 09:02:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14352279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeckoBoy/pseuds/GeckoBoy
Summary: Keith has spent the vast majority of his life alone, and had finally got sick of keeping himself company. He wanted a change; something that would throw him out of his comfort zone and force him to go out into the real world and live a little.Lance lives his life like every day is his last. Every day is a party, and his life has never been boring, but after being fired from every job he's ever had, he starts to realise that the time to snap out of his teenage lifestyle and try to get back on his feet is fast approaching. He isn't ready for change yet.Sometimes, when your plans change for the worst, things happen for the better.And they soon find that everything happens for a reason.





	1. New Year

**Author's Note:**

> Ooooof, it took a lot to post this. 
> 
> I've loved the idea of Lance being a troublemaker for so long and just had to write my own take on it. I tend to take a lot of inspiration for the things I write from certain songs I've been listening to, so prepare yourselves.
> 
> Expect updates whenever, college kicks my ass 12 days a week

Keith couldn’t remember the last time he felt genuinely happy.

He’d lived alone for a large portion of his life; not really caring what people thought of him and attempting to completely brush off the rejection he faced whenever he tried to make friends. Truthfully, he was quite content living in his small apartment and working for most of the week, because it meant that he had all the time in the world to brood without anybody around to disturb him. Because of his apparent social ineptness, the people he did speak with face to face tended not to bother him. He never usually minded. He wasn’t the type for voluntarily stepping forward to interact with people anyway.

New years had rolled around once more, and Keith had the night off. His plans were simple, as they always had been, and he intended to follow them through exactly as he always had done. He would buy himself enough alcohol to get him through his planned conspiracy theory documentary marathon, order a pizza, and then watch the fireworks from the window of his cramped living room. In truth, he would much rather be outside watching and joining the celebrations, but there was no use in trying to change his own mind now. Keith, after all, was a creature of habit.

However, after yet another year of being out of college and working his life away in an office, he almost felt ready for a bit of a change. While he liked the comfort of his plain life, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if things were different. What if he’d stuck up for himself more in school, would he still have got into his first choice of college and wound up with a stable job? Would he have been a different person if he hadn’t let people push him around as much? He would never know, of course. But it was always nice to dream about what the versions of him in other realities were doing with their lives.

The clock ticked around to 9:00pm before he could blink, and from his open window, he could hear the excitable sounds from the parties his neighbours were throwing and the premature explosions of fireworks in the distance. Wrapping a blanket from his makeshift bed on the living room floor around his shoulders, Keith approached the window and parted the blinds to look outside. Living in the middle of the city had its perks, because everything was right on his doorstep and it meant that he could stay inside all he liked. However, the noises of the world around him often toyed with his curiosity, and he wondered what it would be like to have a more active social life like all the other people in the world.

From his window, Keith had the perfect view of the fireworks being let off around him. The beautiful colours that painted the sky were almost hypnotising and had he nothing that he wanted to do that night, he would have happily sat in the warmth under his blanket and simply watched until the parties ended in the early hours of the morning. All around him there was the excitable buzz of life, and yet it had always felt so out of reach to him. No matter. Keith was content without all that.

Or was he?

In the last few weeks, the only interaction with other people he’d had was with his family over Christmas, and at work, where his colleagues tended to keep to themselves unless they needed a favour. Other than that, he had the gym, where he had been going every day that he could over the festive period, but he never counted that. After all, the only person he spoke to there counted as family, so in his eyes, that counted even less. He let out a soft sigh as he rested his cheek on the back of the sofa, still looking out at the rest of the world longingly.

A text from Takashi disturbed his peace after a few minutes; an early message wishing him a happy new year and reminding him that it wasn’t too late to go and join him at the party down the street. Although it wasn’t physically far away, Keith couldn’t bring himself to change out of his comfortable clothes and make himself look presentable enough for other human interaction, and so he sent a message back simply stating that he had other plans and apologising for not being able to go.

Takashi had been like a brother to him for as long as he’d known him, and if he couldn’t convince Keith to leave the comfort of his own home to try and meet new people and loosen up a little, he doubted anybody else could. After all, he was the closest friend Keith had, and it would take a miracle to get him to voluntarily go out to socialise with people he didn’t know for the night, especially on such a busy night of the year. Keith still felt a twinge of guilt for making up yet another excuse though, and almost sent another text taking it all back and agreeing, but he decided against it.

Soft purring filled his left ear as he sat staring out of the window, and Keith smiled to himself, gently offering his hand out to his pet cat, Red, who had hopped up onto the back of the sofa to sit with him. Where Keith lacked skills in communicating with other humans without being awkward, he more than made up for when it came to his animal companion. Most people would have immediately assumed that Red was the cat equivalent of a demon, but Keith knew that she was just very picky when it came to choosing who to be friendly towards. The first time Takashi had visited Keith’s apartment, she’d attacked him and scratched his left hand half to shreds.

But with Keith? Red was a little angel. She always seemed to know when he needed company and would gently nudge her head into his hand or jump into his lap at all the times he was feeling particularly shitty. Like now, for example. His mother had said she reminded her of her brother’s emotional support dog, who went everywhere he did. Keith liked to think that Red just knew him well enough to see when he needed a distraction from his thoughts.

“You’re gonna bug me about being a loner too huh?” He asked her quietly as she nudged hr face against his cheek. “You’re as bad as Takashi,”

Red simply curled up on the indent on sofa cushion next to him and looked up at him as he spoke. Keith knew most people would think he was mad, but he could swear that sometimes she understood what he was saying.

“I’ll go out there one day, Red…” He promised. “Not tonight, but someday. I’ll stop being a hermit and I’ll try to make some friends soon,”

Red tapped him on the side of his face with her paw gently in response, and he smiled again. He didn’t care that he looked insane, sat on his own in his apartment talking to a damn cat. For him, this was as normal as someone talking to a friend on the phone, which when he thought about it was actually quite sad.

“Right…” Keith stretched his arms out in front of him as he sat up from his place on the sofa and slid back down into his blanket fort of a bed. “I guess I should call mom before the service drops out, huh?” He asked Red. She meowed in response and he nodded, taking his phone out of his pocket and mulling over just how much of a loser he must look to the outside world.

Somewhere out there, someone was having the time of their life, and Keith envied them.

 

* * *

 

 

To say that Lance was bad news was an understatement.

Booted from school at age 17, he hadn’t a care in the world. Nothing that boring old normal people would call important anyway, because he was pretty certain that they were all too busy pushing pens behind a desk and moaning about their miserable lives. Lance saw himself as a free spirit; he couldn’t care less what people thought of him and was always the first to stick up for his friends if somebody started something with them. In fact, it was this that had helped him collect the perfect group of loyal friends that he loved to be around to this day.

His mama always told him that he was special. In hindsight, he could see that what she really meant, and he didn’t mind. He had embraced his flaws and made what he could out of them, even if a few people along the way had gone running in the opposite direction. Over his childhood years, he had learned to accept that he wasn’t the same as the other kids, and that there were probably better things out there for him that didn’t require him to read and learn ridiculous amounts of useless information that school insisted on.

Could Lance focus on the same meticulous task for more than 20 minutes at a time? Probably not. Was he going to test that theory? Fuck no he wasn’t. He often found himself in varying degrees of trouble due to his extremely short attention span and lack of ability take in information properly, which had led to him losing a lot of jobs that he desperately needed to be able to keep up his rent payments. But that was shitty adult stuff that he could honestly care less about.

Right now, all that was on his mind was the party. He’d had enough to drink that he was feeling the buzz from the alcohol and the adrenaline from the general atmosphere of the small venue that had become so familiar to him. The music was loud, the drinks were flowing, and Lance was having the time of his life as he moved to beat of the music. Somewhere in the crowd, he knew Pidge and Hunk were probably drinking themselves into a blissful oblivion just like he was, but right now, Lance was perfectly happy to dance the night away by himself.

The lights changed colour as the song did, dyeing the haze in the air around him a soft blue as he moved through the crowd without a care in the world. Sure, come tomorrow morning, he wouldn’t remember most of the night, but right now he felt happier than he had in months, and it felt good to let out all of the stresses he had been facing with the opportunity of a drink and maybe something a little stronger later on. His shoulder bumped someone next to him as he danced, but he didn’t stop to apologise. Everybody here had the same thing on their mind anyway.

“Lance!” Hunk’s voice could only be heard over the loud thump of the bass that thudded into his chest. His head turned, and the familiar face came into view among the crowd. “Matt’s set is in 20 minutes, he said we can go backstage,”

Lance’s face lit up slightly and he eagerly followed his friend. He, Pidge and Hunk had been frequenting this bar, which occasionally put on live music, since they had all been allowed to buy drinks legally. Before then, they had played a couple of really terrible shows with their rented instruments, which they had initially thought had gone very well, but soon found that the majority of the audience wasn’t even paying attention to their music. Now they still played at small venues but didn’t expect too much publicity to come of it. Matt was Pidge’s older brother; at 27, 2 years older than Lance and Hunk, he had managed to get himself in with one of their favourite venues and had his own night which he would frequently DJ at. It just so happened that tonight, on new years, he had another set.

Hunk grabbed Lance’s arm and led him through the crowd to the side of the stage, where they quickly explained themselves to the security guards. After a few minutes od a small disagreement with the man guarding the door, the pair managed to get into the green room backstage, where Matt was lying on one of the sofas to the side of the room. Pidge, who had always attended Matt’s shows, sat lazily on the arm of the chair with a drink in her hand, her short hair half pulled back to keep it out of her face.

“Hey! You made it,” Matt beamed as he sat up. “So we have a bit of an issue about later tonight, but don’t worry, it’ll be cool until like, 11-“

“What do you mean when you say ‘issue’? because it sounds like you’re gonna have to kick us out before the countdown,” Lance asked cautiously. This very thing had happened on a few occasions, because Matt had been known to like a drink before he went on stage.

“Look, we might have to leave once my gear is back in the van and ready to be taken back, but-“

“What!? That’s totally unfair! It’s new years, we’ll miss midnight!” Hunk argued, spilling some of his drink on the floor as he threw his arms out to put his point across. Matt shrugged.

“Not my choice, man… There’s always another bar that we can go to, we’re only on the guest list here until my set finishes,” He told them. Lance groaned in frustration. Of course this would happen, tonight was too good to go right. “I had an idea though,”

“Yeah, a shitty one,” Pidge remarked as she sipped her drink and slid off the arm of the sofa and into the crease in the corner of it.

“Come on, it’ll be a laugh,” Matt whined. “I thought we could go to the park, y’know like we used to before we could get in here?”

“What, and drink ourselves stupid before passing out in a bush and waking up at 2pm tomorrow not remembering anything?” Hunk asked. The room went quiet for a moment before everyone turned to Lance.

“Oh come on! That was one year!” He said defensively. Pidge laughed.

“That was one of our best,” She reminisced. “But we’re not exactly kids anymore, Matt. I don’t think 4 adults, 5 if you can convince Shiro to join us once he gets off work, are gonna get away with antisocial behaviour in a park like we used to when we were teenagers,”

“Then we join one of the street parties,” Lance suggested. “I know there’s one going on near our place, it’s not too far from the park,”

“It’s freezing out, Lance. And you’re only wearing a tank top,” Hunk pointed out.

“Like I give a shit! C’mon, it’ll be fun,” He insisted. Matt was clearly very much up for following Lance to the street party. Usually, they were wild, and there was a much higher chance of them meeting weird and wonderful people if they decided to go. Lance was always down for meeting new people.

After a little convincing (and a slight bribe toward his two friends in the form of some of his favoured relaxation), Lance, Hunk and Pidge headed back into the main room of the venue to enjoy the last couple of hours of time inside while Matt made his way onto the stage to set up his decks. The three of them had managed to drink enough between them that anything would seem like a good idea to them, but that didn’t matter. The music was great, and they all knew the words to every song Matt played. It seemed like nothing could go wrong at all.

It was when Lance was pushed back into somebody and a drink spilled over a girl he’d had his eye on for most of the night, that they decided to get out of there. The guy he assumed was her boyfriend didn’t exactly look happy at Lance offering to dry the front of her shirt with the blue flannel shirt he had tied around his waist. He didn’t mean for it to lead to him grabbing the front of his shirt and throwing him on the floor away from the dance floor, or for it to get him kicked out again. _Asshole._ Lance thought to himself as he sat on the curb outside the club and waited for his friends. _I would have kicked his ass if I got the chance._ Luckily, there weren’t many sober people around outside, so nobody questioned him lying back on the pavement and lighting up a cigarette from the box in his pocket.

This was all he had, he soon realised. Hardly having any steady income meant that there was always somebody on his back about his rent, or Hunk had to make up the rest of the difference that he couldn’t pay. It sucked. He wanted more than anything to be able to find a way that he could pay off the debt that was slowly building up without having to work a boring job for the rest of his life, but there was next to no chance of that happening. He sighed as he looked up at the clear December sky and watched the stars wordlessly.

Someone out there had their shit together, and Lance envied them.

He didn’t know how long he’d sat there on the curb, but after a while, his friends finally found him, and his mood was lifted again. It had just hit 11:30, and the build-up to midnight was in full swing. Street parties near student apartments were just as full of energy as there had been inside the club, and Lance loved every second of it. He looked up toward his shared apartment with Hunk to check he’d closed the window, only to see that all of the lights around the room were on, with the exception of the one below it, which remained dimly lit, with the window pushed open slightly. Lance knew he hadn’t left the window open after all.

They met up with Shiro briefly once they heard from him, but soon enough, Lance lost him in the crowd s his vision became blurry from all the alcohol in his system. Shiro and Matt had been friends since they were in school, and he’d joined their group of friends when they all realised he was just like them. Although a little older than Lance, Shiro still maintained his sense of humour, and would often make jokes that Lance would have told if he’s been quick enough. Unlike the rest of them, however, Shiro most definitely had his life together. He had a stable job, a bigger apartment than he did, and he still had time to make jokes put up with his peers. To say Lance looked up to him would be an understatement.

“C’mon, let’s dance!” Mat yelled as he grabbed Lance’s hands and started enthusiastically ballroom dancing to the ill-fitting pop music that blared from the speakers around them. Lance just laughed and went along with it, because they were all drunk anyway, and he’d done much worse while he had been drunk with his friends than ballroom dancing to shitty pop music in the middle of the street.

When the music changed to something more familiar, the four of them sang along to the words, huddled together in the crowd with wide grins on their faces. They swayed around drunkenly, without a care in the world, and Lance took joy in having time to be able to just put his problems aside to enjoy the company of his best friends.

And it was all well and good, until Lance stumbled away from the group and tripped over his laces, knocking into two guys, one of which he was sure he recognised from the bar earlier on. His eyes widened momentarily when one turned to him and grabbed him by the shirt, practically lifting him off the ground, but Lance wasn’t one to let people push him around. If they wanted a fight with him, that was exactly what they’d get.

“I thought I told you to watch it,” The man stated through gritted teeth, shoving Lance backwards so he knocked into Hunk. “Get out of here,”

“Why? So you can keep being an asshole?” Lance remarked. "Fuck off and take your head out of your ass, man. It's a party,"

That was it. Within seconds, the other man lunged at Lance with a strong punch aimed at the side of his head. Having good enough reflexes even while drunk, he managed to duck out of the way just in time, but in the process, caused the man to punch Hunk in the shoulder at full force. There was a moment of silence between them before Hunk snapped and grabbed the man’s shirt, lifting him up and shoving him to the floor roughly as Lance blocked another punch from the other man.

Now fighting was almost a regular occurrence for Lance. His problem was that he didn’t know when to stop talking, so he’d gotten his fair share of punches to the face. It was a rare occasion that Hunk got involved with the fighting physically, but all of his friends knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t somebody people wanted to push over the edge. Soon enough, the four of them fighting had gained some attention from the surrounding people, who had taken to cheering on whoever looked like they were winning. The scuffle between the four of them lasted less than a minute before shouting from outside of their group drew Lance’s attention. He looked up, wiping some of the blood from the last landed punch to the jaw off his lip while the man he had been fighting was distracted.

 _Shit_. He thought. _Cops._

“Every man for himself!” Lance yelled over the noise of the party surrounding them as the group scarpered off in all directions. No way was Lance getting arrested again. He wasn’t about to stick around to find out if he would. He hated cells. He definitely didn't want someone to get a call back home letting them know that Lance had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly in the street and picking a fight.

Pidge and Matt, although not part of the fighting itself, ran off in the opposite direction to Lance, heading toward their shared apartment a few blocks away and easily evading the eyes of the police. Hunk, who Lance assumed would follow him, seemed to disappear within the mass of people as Lance pushed through the crowd and into the open street on the other side. It didn’t matter though. He’d see him back at the apartment later, unless he had to bail him out in the morning, which was highly unlikely. Hunk had talked his way out of much worse situations in the past.

With one more check over his shoulder to make sure he’d shaken the cops off his back, he pushed the door open to the apartment block and stumbled into the building, punching the call button for the elevator and waiting, slumped against the wall. So much for a partying through the countdown. He checked the time on his phone as the low-battery symbol flashed on the screen. Five minutes until midnight. What had been their plans for the best new year celebrations since they had left school had turned into Lance spending it alone in his apartment.

So much for a great start to a new year.

When the doors opened for the first time, he blindly stumbled in and punched the button for his floor lightly and slumped against the mirrored wall opposite. With a sigh, he watched them close and was plunged into silence, his ears still ringing slightly from the loud music. Tapping his foot on the floor impatiently, Lance rubbed his face. Had he really messed things up for his friends again? They were probably really mad at him for starting a fight for the second time in the space of a few days, but honestly, those guys deserved it. They’d bugged them before in the bar for being too loud, which was fucking ridiculous in Lance’s opinion, so he had every reason to stick up for himself.

The doors opened, and he stumbled out and down the hall toward his and Hunk’s shared apartment. Testing the door handle to check he’d locked the door before he left, but apparently, he’d forgotten to, because the door simply swung open, revealing the dark expanse of their living room. Not that he could see it very well. His alcohol tolerance had finally given in, and he swayed a little more before falling flat on his face, still only halfway inside the apartment.

He didn’t care. He was home. Home was safe. Safe meant comfy.

The floor was comfy enough.

His eyes drifted shut just as the sound of the countdown outside came to a close through the open window and the celebrations continued.


	2. Hangovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with the aftermath of Lance's drunken encounters takes more than one person usually. 
> 
> When he finally pries his eyes open from his alcohol-induced slumber, he realises he might have made a small mistake with his judgement the previous night. How can he tell?
> 
> He doesn't have a cat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally got around to updating something after 3 MONTHS OF NOTHING
> 
> It's been a weird few months, this part took so long for me to actually fins motivation to write, but it's finally done and I'm back to writing again. Now I've got no college to worry about, I'm actually going to try and get some stuff written again. 
> 
> BUT I SAID THAT LAST TIME AND THEN NOTHING FOR 3 MONTHS SO WHO KNOWS

His first thought when he heard the door open were that he was being robbed. Having sworn he’d locked the door to his apartment way before he started his lonely conspiracy theory night, Keith quietly got up from the pile of blankets and pillows surrounding the floor by the sofa and took the knife he had always kept wedged down the back of the cushion in case of a situation just like this. He held the blade with two hands, not knowing what to expect when he turned to see the invader in the doorway and wanting to be on the safe side by not dismissing the possibility of them being 4 times his size.

What he found instead, was a drunken, unconscious man, probably around his age, dressed in what he could only call a madman’s choice of clothing for this time of year. He wasn’t too mad that he’d stumbled into his apartment unannounced, because it was likely it had just been a misunderstanding, but the smudge of red on his white carpet drew his attention immediately. Shuffling over from his position across the room, Keith pocketed his knife and knelt next to the man to check him for any injuries.

He turned the intruder onto his back, not sure whether to sit him up properly in case of a head injury, and quickly made note of several cuts and bruises that had started to form on his face and arms. _I can’t just leave him in the hall._ Keith thought to himself as he considered his choices for a moment. With a sigh, he reluctantly attempted to pick the man up from his position on the floor and managed to just get him to the sofa. Although Keith liked to think himself to be pretty strong with the amount he went to the gym, he had still struggled to get the man onto the sofa, almost dropping him face first into the bed fort he had made for himself to sleep in that night in the process.

Keith stepped back to get a better look at the drunkard that was now sprawled out on his sofa. The first thing he noticed, was how his legs still hung off the arm of the sofa on one side, and his mouth had fallen open as he snored softly in his unconscious state. He had clearly been drinking; Keith could smell the alcohol on his clothes, and although he was almost reluctant to let him sleep on the sofa for fear of him transferring the stench of stale alcohol into the fabric, but he couldn’t just leave him on the floor. He also looed as though he’d either taken a fall or been in a fight.

Luckily, Keith remembered all of the first aid training he had done for work. It had only ever come in useful once or twice when he’d bust his lip kickboxing or needed to clean a nasty looking scratch that he’d managed to get from the loose handle on his bedroom door. He’d tended to much worse than a few scratches, and so decided that, since the man was clearly too drunk to deal with it himself, he would clean up the cuts on his face and try to stop some of the bruises from showing by wrapping some ice in a towel and gently pressing it to the bruising skin on the side of his face and his knuckles.

Why was he doing this? He had no idea. It just felt like the right thing to be doing for someone who couldn’t look after themselves. Out of curiosity, and also to put his mind at ease, Keith checked for a phone or wallet to try and figure out who this man was. Someone could have been expecting him home, which was entirely possible since he’d seemingly stumbled into his apartment without realising it wasn’t his own. Taking the phone from the man’s pocket gave him no information at all. It was completely dead. Keith leaned over the sofa and unplugged his charger from his own phone and started charging it for him as he searched for some form of ID.

It seemed wrong to go through his things, but Keith didn’t trust him as far as he could throw him. This guy could have been anybody

It was only when he stirred that Keith dropped the wallet in his hand onto the floor, but he didn’t wake up. With a relieved sigh, Keith simply placed the wallet on the coffee table and took a moment to collect himself before beginning to clean up the blankets and pillows from his makeshift fort on the floor and pile them onto the armchair nearest to the kitchen.

He'd missed the fireworks already, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. This was definitely his first priority, since it wasn’t every day a stranger turned up in his apartment unannounced. He thought that he should have some gut feeling that this was all a bad idea, but there was no such feeling when he thought about how he had stopped the man from sleeping out in the hall all night and risking him getting into more trouble, and potentially getting more hurt.

Without a second thought about what he had done, Keith simply double checked that there was nothing either of them could trip over in the morning, and then retired to the comfort of his bedroom. Being on the side of caution, of course, he also double checked that the doors were all locked, including the door to his own room. If there was a chance this guy was some psychopath that wanted to kill him, at least he’d have a chance to escape with a locked door between them.

Sounds of parties in the distance kept him awake for much longer than he anticipated, but after what seemed like forever, he slowly drifted into a dreamless sleep, not concerned about any of the events of the evening, and not even remembering that he had only got part way though his rented documentary on the Mothman.

 

* * *

 

 

When Lance woke on New Years morning, Lance thought he was going to die.

Not literally, of course. His head was throbbing so bad that he thought his brain was going to break through his skull and run around the room. Obviously, he’d had hangovers this bad before – sometimes worse – so he knew the way around them and the key to surviving the day usually involved enough food to feed a horse for 2 weeks and taking enough naps to sleep it off. He sat up off the sofa and rubbed his hands over his face – funny, he didn’t remember getting to the sofa before his memory went blank…

There was something not quite right about the apartment. The first thing he noticed was that, although he was still probably a little drunk, the furniture was in the complete wrong place. He could have sworn he’d won the argument with Hunk when they were trying to decide whether to put the sofa facing the door or not, but here he was, staring blankly at the apartment door while sat up against the back of the sofa. Maybe he’d moved it while he was waiting for him to come home as a lesson to stop starting fights. Traitor.

The second thing, and the factor that made him realise there really was something wrong, was the damn cat.

He let out a shriek as the purring behind his head started to get louder, and a small, furry head butted into his own. Lance had nothing against cats usually, and he didn’t mean to scare the poor thing into scratching his face across his left cheek, but _he didn’t have a cat._ Once the hissing and spitting stopped and the beast had scampered away into another room, he took another look around.

_Oh no._ Lance groaned and sat back on the sofa, covering his face with his hands. _Wrong apartment._

This had never happened to him before. He wondered what confrontation he would get from the owner of the apartment, which after taking another look around, was definitely not his own. From the decoration, it was clear that whoever lived here didn’t get out much. The walls were plain and lacked any real decoration other than a few posters that had started to peel off the wall and roll at the corners, but Lance recognised nothing that was on them anyway. Despite the state of the posters, the rest of the apartment looked relatively clean, although the pile of blankets and pillows that was leaning to the side in an armchair to his right cluttered the room slightly.

“Sorry about Red, she doesn’t usually like strangers…” A quiet voice sounded from a doorway across the room. Lance looked up in the direction of the stranger’s voice, his vision still a little hazy with his hangover, and made note of who he assumed was his sleepy looking neighbour, cat wrapped around his shoulders precariously. “I put your phone on charge in the kitchen, I hope you don’t mind,”

Lance patted the pockets of his jeans, noting how they had been emptied. The man walked across the room silently, walking behind the almost empty breakfast bar and unplugging the familiar phone from the charger and bringing it over. If anything, Lance appreciated the stranger’s thoughtfulness – the last thing he remembered was that his phone was about to die when he checked it last. He took the phone gratefully and smiled slightly at he other man, who sat on one of the two empty stools at the breakfast bar.

Lance silently thanked his drunken self for stumbling into the wrong apartment. He found himself staring at him, unintentional, but completely understandable. Something about him intrigued him, and despite the awful haircut on the shorter man, Lance had trouble denying that he was actually quite attractive. But even if drunk Lance managed to stumble into this apartment and end up still alive the next morning, he would have to be much more careful in the future. Not everybody in the apartment block would have left him unharmed in his drunken state.

“Sorry about…” Lance gestured around him awkwardly. “I don’t remember much… I didn’t break in did I?” He asked, his voice suddenly filled with concern. If he had, even Hunk would have trouble getting him out of it.

“No, I must have left the door unlocked,” He assured him, gently setting the cat down on the floor. “But you did pass out in my doorway, so I just pulled you onto the sofa and let you sleep,”

Lance was a little surprised at the stranger’s kindness. Most would have just thrown him out to sleep in the hall, yet here he was. “Thanks for not leaving me out there. I’m really sorry if I got in the way,” He apologised again. “You didn’t have to do that for a complete stranger… I’m Lance, by the way,”

A small smile, almost unnoticeable. “Keith,”

Keith huh?

Lance smiled. “Well, Keith.” He moved to get to his feet, only to find that he was less steady than he had anticipated, having to use the arm of the chair to stop himself from tripping over his own feet. Keith’s face clearly showed that he was trying his best not to laugh at him, but Lance brushed it off as he steadied himself again.  “I should probably go back home before my roommate calls the cops and reports me missing… Besides, I’ve overstayed my welcome anyway,”

The smile on Keith’s face faded slightly, and Lance noticed. “Are you sure you don’t want some coffee? It looked like you were partying pretty hard last night. That hangover must be killing you,”

More kindness from the stranger. This Keith really was just a good guy. Lance thought that maybe he should take notes. “You don’t have to offer,”

“But I did,” He said. The cat perched on his shoulders hopped down onto the floor and cautiously padded back over to where Lance was stood. After a moment, she had started rubbing her head against his leg, and he felt a small smile appear on his face.

“You cat is trying to trip me up,” Lance told Keith as he carefully made his way over to the breakfast bar and took a seat. Keith chucked slightly.

“You should see what she’s like when my brother’s here. I don’t think he’s ever left without being mauled by her,” He replied, his tone serious, but a smile present on his face. “Sugar?”

“Please,” Lance rubbed his temples as he tried to remember a lot of what had happened the night before, but his memory was so hazy that he gave up immediately.

After a few minutes, Keith brought his coffee to him and took the seat at the breakfast bar by his side, turning the radio on as he passed. It felt oddly casual, and considering how Lance hardly knew this man, he was appreciative of what he had done for him. Their conversation was sparse, and every now and again they would each check their phones, but otherwise, the coffee was actually a pretty good start to Lance’s hangover recovery.

He didn’t stay in Keith’s apartment for too long, since he really did have to get back to Hunk, so the other man wouldn’t try calling out a search party to find him. After some insistence, Lance managed to convince Keith to trade numbers, because it really wasn’t every day that he just happened to fond someone friendly by mistake. Making a mental note to text him later in the day, he left Keith’s apartment and walked up the stairs to the next floor, where he found the _right_ apartment this time.

As expected, Hunk was already awake and waiting for him. The smell of freshly cooked bacon immediately lured Lance into the kitchen, and into his best friend’s trap. If he thought he was going to get away with staying out all night without even texting his roommate and oldest friend, he was very, very wrong indeed.

“Lance! Do you know how many messages I sent? Where were you? What happened to your face-“ Hunk’s endless stream of questions as Lance slouched in his seat at their small table in the kitchen was completely ignored by Lance as he put his head down in his arms. “Hey! Don’t you ignore me-“

“Chill out,” Lance told him quietly. “Who are you, my mom?”

“I was worried, and rightly so. Pidge hadn’t seen you, and Matt was about to call Shiro so we really would have been an actual search party looking for you if you didn’t show up,” Hunk told him. Lance just groaned and rubbed his temples.

“Well I’m back, okay? And I was fine last night. I just ended up walking into the wrong apartment,” He explained the situation quietly as Hunk plated up their breakfast, and they ate together without discussing too much of the night in lots of detail. As far as Hunk knew, the assholes that had started fighting with them hadn’t been caught either, but they wouldn’t be a problem. They didn’t seem like the type to stick around in the city for long after the festivities were over.

Hunk quickly let Pidge, Matt and Shiro know that Lance had returned home, and the rest of the day was spent napping and getting over their hangovers by eating as much greasy food as physically possible. Lance knew that it would be terrible for his skin, and that he’d have to change his entire skincare routine just to fix the state it was about to get into, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when what he was eating was soaking up the remaining alcohol in his system and making him feel less dead as the day went on.

It was dark again by the time the door knocked, and as usual for a Saturday night, Pidge, Matt and Shiro arrived with more promises of getting drunk before Sunday was officially upon them and they had to go back to work. By 10pm, the five of them had already played one drinking game while watching some shitty Christmas movie that just happened to be playing on the TV when they got in, and Lance felt appropriately drunk again. The only difference to the previous night, was that he wasn’t about to stumble into some stranger’s apartment, since he was already at home, and he knew there was no chance of there being a fight.

There were still fireworks being let off in the distance, but Lance could hardly hear them over the sound of the tv, and later on, the music which was being played as he and his friends talked among themselves in their drunken state. He was having fun and was suddenly very overwhelmed by the thought that he had so many amazing friends that had his back whenever he needed it. After a while, he found himself drunk crying into Pidge’s shoulder – much to her annoyance – as Hunk and Shiro left the room to collect the food they had ordered from the door.

“Why are you even crying?” She asked him. Lance shrugged and continued to babble nonsensically into her shirt. “Lance, not that I’m angry at you for getting upset over nothing, but can you not cry on my new shirt please?”

Matt snorted as Lance nodded a little and sat back up, sniffling. “Is this about last night?” He asked him.

“What about it?”

“We didn’t mean to ditch you, man. I thought you’d get home okay on your own like you usually do, and you know that Pidge is on her last strike before mom and dad take her computer,” He explained. Lance wasn’t upset at the siblings leaving after the fight; in fact, he completely understood, and had his family still been as close to him as the Holt family were to one another, he would have done the same for his siblings too.

“S’not that,” Lance muttered, wiping his face with the sleeves of his shirt. “Just get emotional sometimes,”

“The understatement of the century,” Pidge stated simply as she picked up the controller off the floor and handed it to Lance. “Now if you don’t beat me at Mario Kart I’ll take the tear-stained shirt as another debt and you can buy me a new one,”

A smile broke onto his face and he happily agreed, completely forgetting the tears.

Hunk and Shiro brought the food over and the five of them started their impromptu Mario Kart tournament. As usual, the Holt siblings won, and Lance claimed that they were cheating for working together, and Shiro had to calm the heated discussion that they got into about their rules for the next round. It was only after another few games that Shiro’s phone rang, and he had to take the call, that the others stopped their competition to eat.

“Who’s Shiro talking to?” Lance asked around a mouthful of pizza.

“Probably his brother, or his parents in Japan if they got the chance to call,” Matt told him. “He didn’t go over to see them this year, so they promised they’d call him once there was some decent service,”

“Oh…” Lance didn’t really have anything to say to that. He had fallen out with his parents a few years back and hadn’t been back to see them for almost 3 years. Of course, he kept in touch with his siblings to maintain his title of being the favourite uncle to his niece and 2 nephews. When it came to his parents, Lance felt as though he had disappointed them. With him being kicked out of school first, then being in and out of jobs all the time, the thought of him returning to his family home in Cuba without being turned away was almost out of his grasp.

And that was why he always put it to the back of his mind. He didn’t like to think about it too much, because if there was one thing he regretted, it was that he never got the chance to properly apologise to his family before leaving home. He wished it was as easy for him to call home as it was for Shiro. He wished it was easy enough to call and tell them he was sorry for disappointing them, and to promise that he would try to get better. Sadly, Lance knew that for that to happen, he had to be telling the truth. He wasn’t trying to do anything other than live his life the way he wanted to, even if that meant not being accepted back at home again.

Over the years, Lance had convinced himself that he was happy enough. He had friends who were close enough for him to consider family, a roof over his head, and enough money to get by, even with his addictions and medication to pay for. His life could have been a lot worse, and with that thought in his mind, he was able to keep going with a smile on his face, where most would have given up. If he’d got this far, he could get anywhere.

The night slowly drew to a close, and as everybody prepared to leave, Shiro spoke up. “Don’t forget rehearsal tomorrow. I didn’t rent the venue out for nothing,” He reminded them, then looked straight at Lance. “And if you’re late, I’m putting you in a flight case and spinning you around the parking lot again,”

Lance shuddered at the memory – before their last show, he’d had a date and accidentally turned up half an hour later than the rest of the band, leaving little to no time for them to soundcheck properly. Shiro had made him sit in one of the flight cases and got everybody else to push him around until he felt sick after their set as a reminder to be on time for the next one. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again.

“I’m pretty sure he learned his lesson last time,” Matt said with a smirk. “The vomit stain on the floor of the RV says that much at least,”

“You try being pushed around in circles for half an hour without vomiting, it’s a lot harder than it looks,” Lance pointed out defensively.

“As much as I’d love to see you and my dear brother fighting again, I need to leave so I won’t be late for dinner with mom and dad tomorrow,” Pidge spoke up as she checked her watch.

“Don’t be late,” Shiro reminded them once more before the three of them left the apartment, leaving Hunk and Lance sat on the sofa with the remaining food they’d ordered.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re planning something?” Hunk asked him after a while of them sitting in silence. “You’ve been distant all day, did something else happen last night that I don’t know about?”

“No,” Lance sighed. “I’ve just got this feeling that everything is about to change and-“ He paused, rubbing his eyes.

“You infamously don’t like change,” Hunk finished for him. Lance nodded, unconsciously starting to tap his foot on the floor anxiously. “I know you won’t want to hear it, Lance. Maybe change is exactly what you need right now…”

“And mess with my head even more? You’re right, Hunk. I don’t want to hear it…” He muttered as he stood up. “I’m tired,”

“I’ll clean up. Go to bed,” Lance simply nodded and walked across the room to his bedroom door. Pushing it open with his shoulder and clambering over the mess that had completely taken over the room and covered the carpet, Lance sighed again and collapsed on his bed.

_Maybe Hunk was right._ He thought to himself as he looked up at the glowing stars on the ceiling above his bed. The voice in his head screamed at him as he considered admitting it, but he was too tired to argue with himself tonight. It was time he actually slept off the alcohol that was in his system.

Wriggling out of his clothes without bothering to get out of bed, Lance pulled the covers over himself and lay on his side facing the wall. It didn’t take long at all for him to slowly drift off and stop thinking for a while.


	3. Normality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's day at work strays from it's usual routine when he's asked out for coffee by none other than Lance. 
> 
> But while Keith spends his evening de-stressing at the gym with Shiro, Lance has a lot more on his plate, and a much less healthy approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the longest chapter I've ever posted on here??? It's taken a lot to get through writer's block, but I FINALLY managed to get something written to post. 
> 
> Also, just to note: Shiro and Keith are NOT blood related, or adoptive siblings in this AU. They're simply close enough that they see each other as brothers.

The infernal shrieking of Keith’s alarm clock would one day be the death of him, he decided that morning.

With Christmas and New Year out of the way, it was time for Keith to return to work. It wasn’t something he was particularly looking forward to, but he wasn’t thinking about the time he was actually spending in tiny office he called home from 9 to 5 almost every day. He was thinking about the money he was earning while he bored himself to tears filing reports and trying his best to not seem ignorant by reluctantly talking to his co-workers. It wasn’t a bad job; he didn’t have a lot to do, and he earned enough money to get by, with some left over at the end of the month to go into his savings.

What were those savings for? Not even Keith knew. He liked to tell himself that he’d go on holiday at some point; somewhere hot maybe, with a pretty beach and the sea bluer than anything he’d seen before. Or maybe he’d go somewhere cold, where the snow crunched underfoot, and he wasn’t constantly battling the sun with layers upon layers of factor-50 to ensure he didn’t burn. That was the dream, anyway. He’d go, but the thought of travelling alone and having to tell his family that he had nobody to go with was something he didn’t quite like the sound of.

It was the thought of a holiday somewhere nicer than where he was now that kept him going that morning as he got ready for work. He ate breakfast, made coffee, put some food down for Red, and then took a long shower as he tried to convince his body to wake up. His mornings were the same pretty much every day, and it was something Keith found both comforting, and infuriating. He didn’t necessarily hate his job, he just wished he could do something more interesting and get out of his routine. Walking into that office every day was one of the reasons he had felt that he had been slowly driven insane since leaving college.

Glancing at himself once more in the mirror as he straightened his tie, Keith grabbed his bag and coat before leaving his apartment and heading to the elevator. Even the hallways in the building were freezing as he stepped out of his apartment, and he silently thanked Shiro for getting him the coat he didn’t think he needed for Christmas; if it was cold enough for him to see his breath inside, then he’d surely freeze the second he got to his bike.  

Now of course, Keith had been told several times by his parents that there was no point in only learning to ride a motorcycle when he had so much to carry with him. That didn’t mean he listened to them. He still remembered the day that Takashi first took him driving on his own motorcycle when he was only 14, and it was from that day on that he swore to himself that he’d own one. His bike was something he told himself he would always look after, and all the hours he’d spent building it and the money he’d spent buying the right parts said much more than the look of the bike itself.

No matter how old and battered she looked, Keith loved his bike. He didn’t care if the paintwork was chipping off, or that he was in desperate need of a new seat. It got him where he needed to go with no issues, and that was all that mattered. He only wished that the places he needed to drive were more interesting than to his office and back one day.

The ride to work was, as usual, uneventful, and by the time he’d parked up in his usual spot in the parking lot, Keith was already dreading the day ahead. As far as he knew, there hadn’t been too many new changes to the office schedule, but the reports he had to get done for the day would be much more difficult to finish after the holiday period had finished. Silently, he told himself that keeping his head down and getting on with his work would make the day go much quicker.

Whether that would be the case or not was a different matter entirely.

“Ah, Keith!” He didn’t register the owner of the voice that called him as he headed to the elevator until he was inside, by which point he’d seen the flushed face of a tired-looking Thace, who had just managed to catch up to him. “Are you okay? You’re unusually distracted today,”

“I’m fine,” He assured the older man. “Just enjoyed the week off a little more than I should have I think,”

That earned a soft chuckle from his co-worker. “I think we’re all feeling that today,” He said, straightening his tie in the mirror on the back of the elevator. “I think Ulaz slept for most of the holidays. I’ve never seen him so tired after the rush,”

Keith shuddered at the memory. The build-up to Christmas was always a stressful time of the year, as everything had to be finished and packed away for the holidays by a certain time. It was all done to the minute, but while most workers like himself, Thace and Ulaz made sure that all of their work was done, some had managed to slack off enough to make extra work for them all. Had Keith not needed the money he was making to pay his rent, he would have left that day and not came back for another day of work ever again.

“I don’t blame him,” Keith said simply as the doors opened onto their floor. The two of them walked together as they made their way to their desks, the friendly conversation between them normal after working together for so long.

Upon seeing the pile of paperwork on his desk when he sat down, Keith let out a deep sigh and placed his head on the desk. A minute or so later, he heard the same from Thace at the desk next to him. It was going to be a long day, and he didn’t exactly want to think about what would happen to his wages if he didn’t get all of this work done on time. He knew that his boss wasn’t exactly the nicest person in the world, and so decided that it was best to get as much done as possible before his break

And he did.

Keith wasn’t the type of person to slack off when he knew he needed to work. He’d always worked hard for everything he’d got, even if that wasn’t a lot. He was proud of what he’d achieved in his 25 years. That wouldn’t change, of course, but he always wanted more out of life. He was grateful for what he had, but something was always missing.

 _You need some friends in your life, Keith._ His father’s voice reminded him as he worked. _You’d be far happier if you weren’t so lonely._

He was probably right, but where was he going to find anybody that found him interesting other than Shiro, who was close enough to be his brother?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

**_Lance:_ ** _Hey Mullet. Feel like getting coffee today?_

_Strange_. He thought. Checking the time, he sighed, knowing that there was no way of getting a break for at least another hour. It was hardly 12, and he would have much sooner taken his break later into his shift so the time would seem to go that bit faster and he would be back home with Red much sooner than expected.

**_Lance:_ ** _helloooo_

**_Lance:_ ** _Mullet_

**_Lance:_ ** _okay maybe it’s the whole Mullet thing that’s making you ignore me_

**_Lance:_ ** _I don’t mean it to be offensive or anything_

**_Lance:_ ** _but seriously dude? A mullet?_

**_Lance:_ ** _a mullet is kind of offensive in itself, man_

This was just what Keith needed on his first day back; someone who sent multiple texts. If there was one thing in the world that got under his skin the most, it had to be the people who couldn’t put everything they wanted to say into one text. Sensing that this wasn’t going to stop any time soon, Keith took a look around the office and checked to see whether he would be safe enough to reply to the texts without being seen by anybody important.

**_Keith:_ ** _What’s wrong? I’m working at the moment, sorry for taking so long to reply_

Lance’s response was almost immediate.

**_Lance:_ ** _FINALLY!_

**_Lance:_ ** _But that kinda sucks_

**_Lance:_ ** _Because you totally just wormed your way out of a coffee date with me today_

This guy was bold. Keith couldn’t deny that he was trying his best, but sarcastically asking him out for coffee while he was working wasn’t going to get him anywhere. Lance seemed nice enough, even if he’d stumbled into his apartment and suddenly announced that they had to be friends, but Keith had always been wary about people, and this would be no different.

But maybe it was time he started trying. With a little reluctance, Keith tapped away at the screen again before sending his reply.

**_Keith:_ ** _I have my break in an hour, coffee actually sounds pretty good_

There was no turning back now.

Just over an hour later, he found himself huddled in the corner of the coffee shop Lance had recommended, hands around a cup of sickly sweet hot chocolate with extra cream and marshmallows. It was the middle of winter, he was well within his rights to be drinking something sugary to keep the cold out (or at least that was what he kept telling himself). Lance was still not in sight, and he felt himself looking up and over the chair opposite his own at the booth to see the door whenever it chimed. For fifteen minutes, nobody showed. It was as he was ordering himself something to eat that the loud crash and cursing made him jump, and he turned to see Lance’s familiar face, the cuts on his face looking much better than they had the last time the two met.

“Quiznack! I’m sorry Hunk, I didn’t mean-“

“Lance this is the third time this week you’ve spilled my orders,” The larger man who had just served Keith complained, rubbing his temples and starting to collect the remnants of the smashed plates and coffee mugs from the floor. “If you burst in and knock me over again you’re banned,”

Not wanting to seem ignorant, Keith knelt down and helped the man pick up the pieces, gaining a small smile in return.

“Keith! You showed up!” Lance called, a dazzling grin spreading across his face. With eyes darting around the room and easily spotting a few heads turn in their direction, Keith simply smiled awkwardly, wishing the burning gaze of the other people in the coffee shop would turn to somebody else.

Hunk looked between the two of them, raising an eyebrow slightly in Lance’s direction. “You two know each other?” He asked curiously, then turned to look straight at Keith. “I’m really sorry, man. He’s a lot of work-“

“Hey! I’m standing right here!” Lance defended. “Put the damage for this on my tab and I’ll get-“

“Your tab is already well over $200 Lance… I can’t give you more free food or I’ll get in trouble...” Hunk lowered his voice a little as he spoke, looking around cautiously to make sure that nobody had heard him.

“I’ll pay for your coffee, it’s okay,” Keith offered quietly. Hunk smiled at him, then turned back to Lance and gave him a look that suggested to Keith that the two of them knew each other quite well already.

“You sure?” Lance asked. He nodded. “Thanks man… I’ll have the usual then,”

“Just go and sit down before Sal yells at me for breaking more of his plates,” Hunk told him, rolling his eyes a little. The poor man looked well overworked, and straight up exhausted.

Now that most of the attention from the other customers in the shop was off them, Keith felt a little more relaxed, and quietly led Lance over to his booth to sit down while they waited for their coffee and food. Lance looked exactly how he remembered him to, only he wasn’t wearing a ridiculous talk top in the freezing weather and had instead bundled up in a dark blue hoodie and an old jacket, dark jeans and wore a beanie on his head. If he was being honest, Keith would have assumed that Lance had only just got out of bed, and the two of them couldn’t have looked more different.

“What’s with the suit and tie?” Lance asked him as he slouched back into the chair. “Don’t tell me, you’re some high-up CEO or something, right?”

Keith couldn’t help but find that amusing and laughed nervously. “Not quite,” He admitted, unconsciously fiddling with his tie to distract himself. “I work in an office, not really the most fun job in the world… But it pays the rent I guess,”

“Ah, you’re a pen pusher, huh?” Lance asked, a smirk appearing on his face. “And here was me thinking that with that haircut you’d work in some music shop or something,”

Keith raised an eyebrow in surprise at the other man’s words. “What’s wrong with my hair?”

“Dude, you have a mullet,” Lance laughed. “I don’t think that hairstyle has been in fashion since the 70s? 80s maybe? My point is that you need to cut it, or lose the shitty fringe,” His hand reached over the table and took a piece of Keith’s hair between his fingers, lifting it off his forehead curiously. He froze, not knowing how to react to somebody being so forward with physical contact; he’d never really been this close to people before, especially people who he’d only just met.

“I don’t like having it cut,” Keith admitted quietly. “Whenever I do they talk too much and cut it wrong,”

Lance, to his surprise, didn’t laugh at him for that. Instead, he simply sat back in his seat and put his legs up on the chair next to him, leaning against the window. Seeing the man in this light was strange for Keith, because he would have assumed that Lance would have his life together a little more than it seemed. His jeans were ripped, and not just in the usual places they should be; it looked like he’d fallen over in them several times, and the bottoms had frayed so much that there was no stitching holding them together properly. Honestly, Lance looked like a complete mess.

“Right, there’s your drinks…” Hunk interrupted the silence as he approached the table and placed their drinks down. “And food cooked by yours truly,”

Keith smiled, already impressed by the food as he looked down at the plate. “Thanks,”

“It’s no problem, just don’t let him steal any, he’s on strike from my cooking for a week,” He replied, giving Lance a pointed look.

“What!? That’s so not fair-“

“You did this to yourself,” He told him with a smirk as he walked away. Keith couldn’t help but crack a small smile as he started to eat. The food was delicious, and he suddenly felt a little bit sorry for Lance, who wouldn’t be able to taste it for another week. For a moment, there was a peaceful and comfortable silence between the two of them.

“What are you drinking?” Lance asked him after a while. Keith looked down at his mug, which was overflowing with whipped cream and marshmallows like before, but this time had a flake sticking out of the side of it. “All that sugar isn’t good for you, Mullet. If that’s all you drink, I’m surprised your skin isn’t in worse shape. Although it would half explain your shitty hair-“

“That doesn’t make any sense,” He argued.

“Yea? Well neither does you actually choosing to have a mullet,” Lance responded quickly with a smirk as he sipped his coffee. Keith rolled his eyes. Lance was more annoying than he initially thought he was.

“Is there any real reason you wanted to get coffee?” He asked curiously. It wasn’t normal for most people to want to spend any time with him, and so he had been a little sceptical about trusting Lance enough to know that he wasn’t going to turn up and throw something at him or, even worse, not turn up at all.

“Oh! Yeah, of course,” Lance quickly shoved his hand into the pocket of his worn green jacket and slipped a rain-damaged flier across the table. Looking at the writing with more care than he usually would, Keith scanned it over carefully, still not clicking onto what he was trying to tell him. “So, I wondered if you wanted to come to a gig next weekend… I know we’ve not really known each other for long and you probably think it’s weird but-“

Keith zoned out momentarily as Lance kept talking and glanced back down at the flier again. It was advertising a show at a local music venue (one which he’d been to on a few occasions himself), and had been poorly designed, probably by the band that was shown. _What kind of name is Voltron, anyway?_ Keith thought to himself as he carefully looked back up at Lance, who to no surprise, was still talking.

“-and so I can get you backstage if you wanted to and-“

“Lance,” Keith interjected carefully. Lance immediately stopped talking, waiting for Keith to speak. “Why me?”

Lance’s face dropped a little. “It’s fine if you don’t want to I guess… But I figured that now we’re friends that I could invite you to one of my band’s shows and-“

“Wait,” Keith blinked, looking back down at the flier again. The water damage was covering most of the faces in the photo, but after looking closer, Lance’s face was easy to see on the far left. “Your band? This is your band?”

“Yeah…” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Don’t worry about it though. If it’s not your thing I completely get it,”

Lance, the man who had stumbled into his apartment drunk and left with his number, had thought about him when deciding who to ask to his band’s first show of the year. He felt touched at the thought. No, he didn’t know the man very well, and no, he probably wasn’t going to be able to talk to Lance much on the night, but the reminder that he’d been asked to attend would keep a smile on his face nonetheless.

“I… Don’t have anybody to go with,” Keith admitted quietly. Lance simply smiled after setting his half-empty coffee cup down on the table.

“You don’t need anybody,” He assured him. “If you want to stay in the audience that’s fine, since it’s so easy to make friends at a gig. But if you’re feeling lonely or you just want to come straight in, just let me know and I’ll get you backstage,”

“Really?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. Lance nodded, his warming smile still present on his face. “You really want me to go?”

“Of course I do,” He assured him. “Look, you don’t have to make your mind up now. I’ll save you a ticket, and then when you decide, you can let me know, okay?

Keith couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness. “Yeah… Thanks Lance,”

After finishing his food and hot chocolate, Keith left Lance in the coffee shop to go back to work, but not before insisting on paying for the damage Lance had caused on his way inside. He didn’t want to feel awkward the next time he came in to get coffee from there, even if he was on his own. The walk back to his office was uneventful, just the rest of his day at work was. With an even higher stack of reports and complaints to file and deal with waiting on his desk as he got back, Keith decided that the sooner he got his work done, the sooner he’d be able to get home and spend his evening downtime with Red.

Or that was what he thought he’d be doing.

Pretty much the second he stepped outside of the building to go home, his phone rang. With a defeated sigh, Keith pulled it from his pocket and glanced down at the screen before very reluctantly answering the call. Of all the nights for his brother to call, it had to be the night he wanted to just go home and take a nap.

“What now?” Keith spoke monotonously as he dragged himself back to his bike across the parking lot. It was cold enough outside that he wished he’d done his coat up before he got out of the building, and with it already dark out, he felt too exhausted for much social interaction that evening, even if it was only over the phone.

“Someone sounds happy,” Takashi noted in response. Keith rolled his eyes. “How was work?”

“Lotor gave Thace and I extra work because we finished for our breaks early, Sendak wouldn’t leave us alone all day, and I didn’t get enough caffeine for me to survive,” He told him simply. His brother snorted.

“You still up for the gym tonight, or are you too tired?” He asked. Keith groaned at the mention of doing anything else. “We could always go tomorrow if you’re too tired. I just thought you’d want someone to rant to after your first day back,”

That didn’t actually sound too awful. “I guess,” He leant on his bike as he got to it. “I’ll need to go home and change, but I can meet you there if you want,”

“I’ll come and fetch you in an hour,” Takashi told him.

It was almost a relief knowing he wouldn’t have to drive back from the gym later. Sure, he loved his bike, but with the weather as cold as it was, just getting back to his apartment block was sending chills across his exposed skin and up the sleeves of his jacket. Once home, he put food down for Red, then changed into his gym clothes before quickly making himself something to eat. After spending lunch at the café with Lance, he was fortunately not too hungry.

Speaking of which, his phone hadn’t stopped going off since he left the café. Lance’s texts had annoyed him at first, but after a while, he’d started to find the random messages quite enjoyable to read as he worked, especially since he’d technically finished all of _his_ work for the day hours before he left work. He sent a quick text to Lance to let him know that he’d speak to him once he got home, and then waited for Takashi to arrive.

One thing Keith appreciated about his older brother was how he seemed to know when to give him some space. Keith was known to not feel comfortable around lots of people, and a lot of the time, his family would keep encouraging him to speak, even if he had started to feel uncomfortable. As he got into the car, Takashi simply smiled at him and waited until he’d put his seat belt on before driving them straight to the gym. Keith appreciated him, and although they were not really brothers, it had always been easy for them to get along as though they were actually related – the teasing and bickering involved in a normal sibling relationship included.

“Feel like doing some hand-to-hand training today?” Takashi asked him as they walked into the gym. Keith felt the smile creep onto his face immediately.

“As long as I can imagine your hands are Lotor’s face,” Keith told him.

As it turned out, going to the gym really did make him feel better. With much less stress on his shoulders after doing some training, he felt refreshed and much less uncomfortable with being outside of his apartment. Takashi had been very understanding for the entirety of the time they’d known one another, and that was exactly the case that evening as Keith kicked the pads he was holding with enough force to knock the older man back slightly.

“So Lotor, huh?” Takashi started as Keith landed a second kick with his left foot. “Is he still prancing around acting like he owns the place?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Keith admitted as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He hadn’t tied his hair back like he usually would have, and his fringe was starting to stick to his face. “I thought he was bad when you were there, but it seems like every day his head gets further up his ass. I’m surprised he hasn’t turned inside out yet,”

That earned a laugh from Takashi as they switched places and Keith put the pads on his hands. “I don’t see why you’re still putting up with him, Keith. I told you when I left that I’d let you stay at my place until you found somewhere new,”

“You know I don’t want to get under your feet. Besides, Red hates you and I get paid more than I would anywhere else,” He reminded him. The older man punched the pad on Keith’s right hand.

“Well the offer is always there if you change your mind. I can deal with being mauled by your furry demon if you need somewhere to stay,” Takashi joked. In response, and to defend the poor cat, Keith hit his brother around the side of the head with the pad. “What was that for?”

“Stop being mean to her, she can’t defend herself,”

“It’s not like she can hear me, or understand me, Keith. But if you insist, I’ll leave your precious pet alone,” He teased.

“My point is that I can’t come back to live with you again, ‘Kashi…” Keith told him. His brother’s face fell a little, but he seemed to understand. “I just like my own space, that’s all… It’s nothing personal,”

“I know,” He smiled slightly as he started hitting the pads again. “I just don’t see a lot of you anymore. It sucks… Working sucks,”

Hearing Takashi sound so down about his job too made Keith feel sorry for him. He knew that his brother had worked so hard to try and be as successful as he could when it came to his career, but it had always been difficult for him. In fact, it became even more so when he lost his last job after his accident. Keith’s gaze moved to the older man’s right arm, where his prosthetic showed under the sleeve of his shirt. Although it had only been a few years since he’d lost his arm, his recovery had seemed like an eternity until he got his prosthetic. It worked just like his left arm but was very clearly a prosthetic limb.

Keith remembered waiting in the hospital for hours and hours as he had his amputation. There was nothing the doctors could do to save his arm after the crash, and for a long time, it seemed like he’d never have his brother back to normal again. Thankfully, almost 6 years later, he’d got a fully functioning prosthetic arm, which worked well enough for him to train with it like he would have done before. The only other visible scar from the accident that had affected Takashi, was the scar across his nose, which he’d cut open on the windscreen of the car as he crashed.

But listening to Shiro talk about his work only made Keith respect him even more. He was given the option to not work after the crash, yet he didn’t want to. He couldn’t just sit around his apartment and do nothing all day, because, in his words _“It would drive me insane, Keith.”_

However, he was still very secretive about it, and so Keith still hadn’t determined what it was exactly that he did.

“You’re coming back to our place tonight by the way-“

“What?!” Keith missed his cue to hold the left pad up as his brother swung his leg around to kick it, simply in confusion, and ended up being knocked backward onto the mat. “You can’t just drop that on me, ‘Kashi! I need like a whole day to mentally prepare myself-“

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell you. It’ll be fine, it’s just me and my roommate anyway. You’ll like him,” He waved his hand slightly in dismissal of Keith’s worries, then reached down to help the younger man off the ground. “He’s just as much of a nerd as you, only worse,”

Keith smiled a little as he held onto his brother’s arm for support after the fall. As much as he didn’t want to spend any more time away from his apartment that day, Takashi was right. He needed to start finding more of a social life than he already had, and if that meant that he had to leave the apartment to tag along with his brother and his friends for a while, then maybe it would be worth it in the end. He hoped, at least.

Ending their training session and making their way back to the changing rooms to shower and change ready to leave, Takashi put his hand on Keith’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll order pizza once we’re back,”

“You really know how to sweeten the deal,” Keith said with a smile. “You’re paying,”

Although he recognised the apartment well from all the times he’d visited in the past, it was a surprise to find it littered with musical equipment once the two brothers walked through the door. Keith’s eyes flitted across the room, to where another man sat behind a make-shift table of what looked like plastic boxes that had been covered with a worn tablecloth. Despite Keith’s surprise at the mess, it seemed like this was a regular occurrence.

“What did I say about you and your damn equipment?” Takashi asked the man as he dumped his bag on the sofa and hung his coat up. “I bring guests over and it looks like you’re setting up for a rave in our living room,”

The man’s head shot up from behind the table, his glasses askew on his face. Keith took a moment to memorize what Takashi’s roommate looked like, as he’d been waiting to meet him for the longest time. He had straight, light brown hair that was just a little shorter than his own and was parted messily in the centre, and a notable scar across his right cheek. Keith struggled to place where he’d seen the man before, until he stood up and walked around the table to greet them both.

“Guests, huh?” He questioned as he looked Keith up and down. “Kogane, is it? I remember you from school… Vaguely though. It’s like, you were hardly there,”

It clicked as he looked over his face again. “Matt Holt?” Keith questioned uncertainly before turning to his brother. “You live with Matt Holt and you didn’t even think to mention it to me at all?”

“In my defence, I didn’t know you knew anybody’s names at school,” Takashi noted as he stepped over some of the tangled mess of cabling on the floor. “Seriously, Matt. If your sister was here she’d kick your head in for your shitty cable management-“

“Don’t you insult my cable management, Shiro. I have a method, and you know that,” He defended, kneeling down on the floor and starting to tape certain cables together with different coloured tape. When his brother walked over and started to help, his hands were soon smacked away. “No! It’s all colour coded, you animal!”

Keith couldn’t hold back the laughter as he watched the two bickering amongst themselves throughout the evening. It was nice to see that his brother had such an overly friendly roommate. In fact, although he’d never spoken to him before, Keith found that he had quite a lot in common with Matt, and the two of them got along oddly well. The two of them spent the evening teasing Shiro (which Keith had discovered was what his friend’s all called him) while he lost to countless games of Mario Kart, at first only to Matt, but as the night got later and Keith got the hang of the controls, to him too.

 _It’s nice._ He thought to himself on the way home that evening. _It’s actually nice to have some friends._

After what felt like only an hour or so, it was time for him to get back to his apartment. With the promise of making Monday nights a Mario Kart tournament between himself, Matt, and Shiro, Keith found himself smiling as he waved to his brother from the doors of his apartment building. This year, he’d make sure things changed for him. He was going to find that happiness that he’d longed for all those years and fill the void that had been present for as long as he could remember.

And one day, he was going to beat the shit out of Lotor.

* * *

 

 

While Keith’s evening was filled with laughter, Lance’s wasn’t so cheerful.

He returned home to his shared apartment with Hunk after three hours of walking around the city looking for a part time job, only to find an envelope on the welcome mat with ‘LAST REMINDER’ written in bold red lettering stamped on the front. He sighed, already knowing the contents of the envelope would make his stomach turn more than it already was. He didn’t mean to keep losing his jobs, but there was really nothing he could do. It was well known that he had a serious problem with holding his temper sometimes, and it was always what got the best of him when it came to him working with customers.

He hopped over the back of the sofa and settled in the corner as he tore it open, his eyes quickly scanning the writing as he read what he’d expected. He and Hunk were 4 payments behind on their rent as of today. With an inward groan, he launched the envelope across the room, sending it sailing with impressive accuracy straight into the bin on the other side of the room. This was the last thing he and Hunk needed right now; Hunk’s wages covered all of their bills and fed them, while Lance’s unemployment usually set them back by hundreds each month. He knew he couldn’t keep going the way he was.

But he still had one more option.

Pulling his phone from his back pocket, Lance dialled the number without even looking down at the screen. It had been such a regular conversation he’d had, and he wasn’t at all proud of it. Having to rely on somebody else was the last thing he ever wanted for himself, but he was left with little choice.

“Lance?” Veronica’s voice was hardly pleased at the call as she answered, and Lance found himself sitting up from the crease in the sofa he’d settled in to perch on the edge of his seat. “If this is another prank call or you’re behind bars again I already told you-“

“Veronica wait!” He stopped her before she hung up on him. There was a moment of silence, then Lance sighed. “I really need some help…”

“Are you in trouble?” She asked, a hint of concern in her voice that she simply was not able to disguise with her disappointment.

“Yes… Well… Not in immediate danger, but… Financially I’m not doing so good right now,” He explained awkwardly. He heard his sister sigh from the other end of the phone, and his stomach dropped a little. “I know what you’re going to say… And I can’t give you any excuses this time because there aren’t any… I’m just seriously on my ass this time…”

“That bad, huh?” She asked, a little more sympathy showing in her tone. “Lance… You know you need to sort yourself out. I can’t keep giving you money to pay your rent and feed you. I’m your sister, but there’s only so much I can do for you, okay?”

“I know, but you know I wouldn’t call to ask unless I was desperate…” His words were true. Moving away form Cuba and away from his family at such a young age had made him realise that he’d got so many more opportunities than he would have had growing up back home. He wanted to help his family out more, not keep asking them for money to help support himself. “I’ve been out looking for jobs for hours today, someone has to take me on at some point…”

“It’ll come along when it needs to, Lance,” She told him. A small smile spread across his face. “I’ll send you what you need for now… But promise me you’ll keep looking? I can’t keep doing this… Mama is getting suspicious,”

His gut twisted more at the mention of his mother. He’d not been back to Cuba to visit them in years and dreaded what she’d think if she could see him now. “Thank you, Veronica… I promise I’ll pay you back everything I owe you as soon as I get the money,”

“You’d better,” He felt himself relax more at the thought of not having to make another excuse for when Hunk got home. “Oh, and Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t put all your time into your band… I know it’s what you love, but it’s time to get real. It’s not going to happen, Lance. You need to focus on something realistic and get a proper job now,”

Her words struck him where it hurt. Not because she was wrong, but because she’d made it very clear that she no longer believed in him. After a short goodbye, he hung up the phone and slouched back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe she was right. Music wasn’t the magical solution to any problem, and it was time he started to come to terms with that. Voltron would just have to be something he did for fun rather than something he wanted a career out of from now onwards.

With a heavy heart and a pounding headache, Lance dragged himself to the kitchen to find whatever leftover food there was for him to gorge himself on to make himself feel a little better. Upon seeing the leftover pizza from the night before, he cheered up a little. Pizza made everything better. Pizza and vodka. Vodka was probably Lance’s favourite way of forgetting his problems.

And unknowingly, one of the causes of most of them.

When Hunk returned from work later than usual that night, Lance had already assumed his usual spot on the sofa with a large bowl of cereal. He saw Hunk roll his eyes at him slightly as he locked their apartment door and head into the kitchen but didn’t say anything. He’d already irritated his friend enough today with the incident at Sal’s, so the last thing he wanted was to make him mad. Instead, he simply turned his attention back to the tv.

“Shark documentaries? Really Lance?” Hunk questioned as he sat down at the other end of the sofa. Lance simply hummed in response as he shoved another spoonful of cheerios into his mouth. “Wow, something really has you down,”

“I wish I was a shark,” Lance started. “Like, they have such easy lives. If they don’t like people, they can eat them. If they’re scared, they just swim away or eat the thing they’re scared of. And they don’t lose their jobs all the time…”

Hunk shook his head a little. “And here was me thinking you got dumped again,” Spotting the letter on the table, he groaned. “Is that another one?”

Lance nodded. “I’ve got enough to cover it, don’t worry,”

“Please tell me you got it legally this time, Lance…” Hunk seemed a little unsure about how Lance acquired most of his money, but never asked exactly. He knew well enough to not ask questions he didn’t want the answers to.

“Veronica is lending me some until I find another job,” He admitted. “It’s enough to cover what we owe, but I need to pay her back as soon as I can,”

“You’re lucky they love you as much as they do, Lance,” Hunk reminded his friend. “I know you don’t get along with your parents very well anymore, but your siblings think the world of you…”

He smiled slightly as he remembered the happy memories from back home in Cuba. The beach, the ocean, the tiny family home that was always bustling with life… He couldn’t deny that he missed it. He’d have given anything for the chance to go back and make things right again, but the thought of facing them all again after the things that had been said between them all.

It was then that his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out to check it. Keith. A smile spread across his face as he tapped out a reply and placed his phone on the arm of the sofa. His “coffee date” with Keith earlier on had gone far better than he expected, and he was fairly confident that he’d made a lasting impression on the other man. Inviting him to the first Voltron show of the year had gone pretty smoothly too, and he really hoped that he’d managed to convince him to go.

“What time is it?” Lance asked Hunk mindlessly after a while.

“Just gone 8, why?” His friend responded, only to roll his eyes slightly. “You are not seriously thinking about going anywhere tonight-“

“Oh come on, I’ve had a shitty day and-“

“And you’ve got rent to pay, Lance.” He insisted. “We really can’t afford this right now,”

“I’ve got it covered… C’mon, Hunk… I won’t be out late,” He promised, already getting up and grabbing his shoes. “I’ll be back before midnight, I promise _mom,_ ”

“Fine, go out. I’m not going though, I promised Pidge I’d track some drums with her tomorrow so I’ve gotta get up early,” He explained. Lance groaned. “Music isn’t all about the guitar, Lance. You’d play out of time if it weren’t for me and Pidge,”

“I knowwwwww,” He whined as he grabbed his jacket. “I’ll be back later. Not too late, but y’know… I’ve gotta medicate. It’s been a long day,”

Hunk just rolled his eyes and smiled. “Don’t get arrested again,”

“Why would I do that?” Lance joked. “Need anything fetching?”

Hunk shook his head, and without further question, Lance headed out, not wanting to sit in the same spot for any longer than he had to. Nyma would probably be free… He hoped at least. She usually had something for him to help take the edge off a stressful day, and if she didn’t, there was always the offer of some company for a few hours. Although disappointed that his friend didn’t want to come with him, he was relieved to be out of the house and away from the slightly judging eyes of another person. As amazing as Hunk was, he knew that it was irritating for him that Lance could hardly afford to pay their rent. He still owed the man everything he had.

And he’d make up for it one day. Like he knew he’d make up for everything he owed his family. But sadly, he knew that today was not that day.


	4. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Band practice for Lance runs smoothly until news of an unexpected visitor arrives, and memories come flooding back to him. 
> 
> Keith however, doesn't remember Lance as well as Lance remembers him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I totally haven't had writer's block for the last month)

“Lance, are you even paying attention anymore?” Pidge’s voice snapped his attention away from his phone for the third time that hour. “You were the one who wanted to practice today, at least put your phone away and play something,”

“Sorry, I had to answer a text,” Lance explained with a sigh as he slipped his phone back into his pocket reluctantly.

Band practice - the one time that Lance’s attention stayed on the task at hand instead of being drawn away by the slightest distraction. He had always looked to the excitement and anticipation of meeting with his friends to play music whenever he was having a bad day, and it never failed to make him smile when he picked his guitar up. Today though, he was distracted. Not for any bad reason, but by a certain somebody with a terrible haircut who had been texting him more and more with each passing day.

He had a good feeling about his friendship with Keith. Most of their conversations had been teasing one another, and between the memes that Lance had sent and the other man’s less than impressed responses to them, he was pretty sure that they would get along well. Despite their texts being often enough, it had been a few days since he had seen the other man and was concerned that he’d scared him away by being too overbearing. If there was one thing Lance didn’t want, it was to scare Keith away after such a short time.

“Has anybody heard form Shiro at all today?” Hunk asked curiously as he checked the time. “He’s never usually late to practice… You don’t think he’s in trouble, do you?”

“Hunk, chill out. Shiro will be fine,” Lance insisted. “But seriously, did he say where he was earlier?”

“He had to take an extra shift at work this morning,” Matt told them as he brought down drinks for everyone form upstairs. He may no longer live with his sister and parents, but he was always as welcome as he was when he was. “He was kinda pissed about it too. Apparently it was Slav’s fault again,”

Pidge snorted. “I think everything would be Slav’s fault if Shiro had his way. He hates that guy,”

“What’s so bad about Slav?” Hunk spoke up from behind his drunk kit as he started to adjust it around him.

“I always forget you guys haven’t actually met him yet… He’s a bit…” Matt paused in thought for a moment before speaking again. “Annoying? Crazy? Should probably not be allowed out in public too often,”

“That bad?” Pidge asked. “Can’t be much worse than Lance then,”

“Hey!” Lance protested as he plugged his guitar into the amp. “I’m not crazy. I’m annoying, but I’m nowhere near crazy level yet. It takes a lot more potentially illegal substances to make me even close to crazy,”

“If you say so, Lance,” Pidge smirked as she checked the equipment over again. As usual, most things had already been set up for their practice, of course with the exception of their own instruments, which meant all Lance had to do was bring his guitar and plug it in.

He sat down on the top of his guitar amp and rested the guitar on his knee as he started to play carefully, all of his attention shifting to the quick movements of his fingers and the sounds of the distortion he’d put on it. His mind flickered back to the memory of his phone call with Veronica earlier in the week. She was right, of course. He knew deep down that this couldn’t last forever, and now that the band were down a member as it was thanks to Matt no longer having the time to do shows with them, it had only solidified that he would have to find something else to do with his life. And he needed to find it soon.

He was 25. Most of the kids he went to school with had already graduated college, got great jobs and started having kids. And where was he – sat in his friend’s basement playing the same cheap guitar he’d been gifted for his 16th birthday, with his childhood dream of playing in a band and touring the world still in the forefront of his mind. Deep down, the rational part of Lance’s mind was screaming at him to get his shit together and go back to school; get some qualifications and at least try to go to college so he wouldn’t spend the rest of his life living off the small amount of money unemployment gave him.

But this was his dream, and he was living it.  By Saturday night, he’d have at least $200 to last him until the band’s next show, but with the debt he owed Veronica, and the next month of rent and bills to pay between himself and Hunk, it just wasn’t going to be enough. Now, he knew he had two choices: he could quit the band and get a real job like his family wanted him to, or he could put all of his time and energy into trying to make Voltron get places he could have only dreamed of. He knew the choice he wanted to make.

“Sorry I’m late,” Shiro announced as he arrived at the top of the stairs to the basement about 20 minutes later. It wasn’t like Shiro to be late for anything, so his bad mood was perfectly justified. “Slav can choke on my foot next time he asks me to teach a class this late,”

“You are quite literally paid to beat the shit out of him, why didn’t you just pretend to be teaching those kids how to make someone taste a foot with their mouth closed?” Pidge asked him. This brought a small smile to the older man’s face as he slumped down into the purple beanbag on the floor opposite the equipment in the corner. Lance couldn’t deny that Shiro looked tired. His eyes were closing, even though it was still very early.

“Shiro please eat a cookie before I contract your depressive glare, it’s contagious,” Matt warned as he tossed one of Hunk’s homemade cookies across the room at him. He caught it with one and smiled as he bit into it, almost immediately cheered up by Hunk’s cooking. Because, well, who wouldn’t be?

“Bad day?” Lance asked as he carefully straightened the pedals on the floor that were plugged into the rest of the setup.

“You don’t even know the half of it. He knew I had places to be today, yet here I am, late because that asshole couldn’t teach a class of 6 kids on his own in case they ripped a hole in space-time or some shit,” Shiro replied. Lance snorted and started carefully tune his guitar again. New strings would be the death of him. “Oh, by the way… My brother is coming over later for games night if you guys don’t mind-”

“Brother?” Lance questioned. He didn’t remember Shiro saying he had any siblings before.

“That’s cool, does he know the address?” Pidge asked. “If not let him know or I’ll go and fetch him while you guys get sorted,”

“Wait, Shiro… You have a brother-”

“He knows where we are. He’s bringing his bike. I’ve gotta try to help him figure out which new parts he needs to buy,” Shiro explained. “And yes, Lance. We’re not blood related, but we’ve known each other since we were kids, so we’re close enough to be family,”

“He’s pretty cool. He kicks ass at Mario Kart,” Matt mentioned casually as he fell backwards into the orange beanbag next to Shiro. “He’s the guy Shiro mentioned before. Y’know, the one who was gonna replace me after I left the band,” He explained further, gaining looks of understanding form Pidge and Hunk in response.

Lance couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of jealousy at the thought of there being somebody else who could do his job, but from what he remembered about Shiro’s brother, he hadn’t been very sociable anyway. In fact, the whole reason he’d turned down the offer to join Voltron was because he didn’t like unnecessary social time with people he didn’t know very well. _What an ass_. He thought to himself. He was probably some hipster asshole who spent way too much time in those shitty independent coffee shops and ran a fucking Tumblr page dedicated to plants or something.

After discussing Shiro’s day at work (and him filling them in on the details of how he’d successfully taught an eight-year-old how to kick Slav into a wall without getting fired), Lance found himself getting lost in the sound of the music as the band started to practice the songs they’d prepared for their set the following day. If he was being honest, he wished that they had some original songs to play to the crowd, but his creativity had started to run dry as of late, and he always worried that the songs he’d once written had aged badly, leaving them with nothing but bad material to work with. He had been so concerned, in fact, that he hadn’t even told the others that he’d even tried working on original songs for Voltron.

For now, they stuck to their covers of songs that they knew the crowd would know and would sing along to. For now, that would be fine.

“Okay Lance. You’ve got some questions to answer now we’ve finally got you here,” Pidge announced after an hour or so of practicing. Lance looked up from his pedals as he was packing them away with a confused look.

“I do?”

“Yeah. You’ve still not told us what happened to you after the New Year fiasco. Hunk said you ended up in some random guy’s apartment-”

“What?” Shiro laughed. “I knew you’d had a lot to drink, Lance, but I didn’t expect you to start the whole one-night-stand thing again,”

Lance felt his face redden in embarrassment but tried to brush it off. “It wasn’t like that at all, okay? I just… I think I hit the wrong floor and ended up a floor above in the apartment above ours. The guy was pretty cool though,” He explained quickly. “Even insisted I stay for coffee and cleaned up my bust lip too,”

Pidge and Matt simultaneously gave him the signature look the Holt siblings were known for: the “keep digging” look. “So you stumble into some random guy’s apartment, he patches you up, you black out, then he makes you coffee in the morning without you getting suspicious of anything?” Matt questioned.

“It wasn’t like that! I… I might have passed out in the doorway and didn’t even realise I was in the wrong apartment. I guess I was just lucky this guy didn’t want to murder anybody for his new years resolution…” Lance tried to explain. He really was just digging himself a hole now. This story was sounding more and more dodgy by the second.

“Yeah, because you totally could have stumbled into a serial killer’s apartment and ended up with your liver in the freezer-”

“Pidge!” Hunk interrupted, covering his ears and paling slightly. “That’s gross,”

“But true,” She argued.

“I think the real question here, Lance, is if you got his number,” Shiro added. Lance smirked.

“Of course I got his number. I’m Loverboy Lance, remember? Who could resist these good looks and charming-” Pidge burst into a fit of laughter. “Hey! I told you, I got his number!”

“Is that who you’ve been texting all day?” Matt asked him.

“Is this the same guy you were at Sal’s with earlier this week?” Hunk asked, suddenly very curious himself.

“Is he officially your rebound from Nyma or-“

“Guys!” Lance cut Pidge off and rubbed his face in frustration. “Yes, I’ve been talking to him today. Yes, it’s the same guy I had coffee with on Monday. No, he isn’t a rebound, we’re friends. That’s all,” He clarified. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Shiro smiling.

“Well it could have been a lot worse. You could have walked into some complete stranger’s apartment and ended up dead. Just please be careful next time you drink that much, Lance,” Shiro warned him.

“Fine, _dad,_ ” Lance groaned and rubbed his face again. “Can we go and get ready for games night now? I think I’m ready for a pizza coma and to wreck all of you at Mario Kart,”

The five of them cleared the equipment to the sides of the garage, carefully storing their instruments away safely before heading into the house to set everything up for games night. With their first show of the year the following day, and Lance anxious to know whether Keith would be there or not, he was naturally distracted from the usual banter between his friends. His foot tapped on the floor as he sat snug between Hunk and Matt on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn within his reach in Matt’s arms, and cookies on the arm of the sofa next to Hunk. He was content wedged between the two of them – besides, the house was cold.

“Right, I’m gonna go out and see if he’s here yet, please be nice… He’s a bit anti-social and doesn’t like people that much,” Shiro asked politely as he grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the front door.

“Any of you know who this guy is that’s coming over?” Lance asked. “Because from what Shiro’s said, he sounds like a bit of a self-centred asshole,”

“He’s not bad, just a bit awkward sometimes,” Matt told him as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “He’s smart, likes science and stuff. Shiro says he went to college to study astrophysics like he did,”

Lance rolled his eyes a little as Pidge spoke. “Do you think he believes in Mothman?”

“Of course he’ll believe in Mothman, Pidge. He’s almost as much of a nerd as you are,” Matt teased. Pidge threw a piece of popcorn at him.

It wasn’t until Lance heard the door open that his head turned to see the mystery brother walking into the room. Shiro was speaking quietly as the other man took his bike helmet off and hung his coat up, but his voice was too quiet for him to pick upon what he was saying to the him. It wasn’t until he turned to the side and he caught a glimpse at the familiar face, that Lance’s mouth fell open in surprise.

“Keith?!” Lance cried as he leapt over the back of the sofa. The older man jumped slightly at the sudden shout, but his attention was immediately drawn to Lance, who had just landed very ungracefully on his face on the floor. “Since when were you coming over?”

“I uh… Takas- uh... Shiro invited me?” Keith answered uncertainly, looking up at Shiro, almost for reassurance.

“You’re-“

“Oh, of course it’s you Keith,” Pidge announced as she pushed her glasses up her nose. “I should have put 2 and 2 together, it’s good to see you again-“

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you man,” Hunk greeted happily from the sofa.

“Wait, you guys know Keith?” Lance asked in confusion.

“We did go to school together… Well, until Keith got transferred at least,” Matt reminded him. He turned back to look at the older man again, then realisation hit him.

_“McClain, please pay attention,” Iverson called from the front of the class. Lance just groaned into the table as he tried to hide his face from the world instead of listening to the lecture the class were getting about the year ahead of them._

_Hunk nudged his elbow, knocking his head off his arm and causing him to hit his forehead on the table. He groaned again as Iverson continued to talk and Hunk kept trying to get his attention. “Lance, you should probably listen, it’s about our schedule-“_

_“Like I’m gonna stick to the schedule,” Lance argued lazily. “School is for losers,”_

_“-and finally, Mr. Kogane. Any reason you’re almost half an hour late?” Iverson asked as the door to the classroom creaked open. Lance looked up to see Keith stood in the doorway awkwardly, holding a stack of books to his chest, his hair messy, and glasses sat skewed on his face._

_“I fell asleep on the bus, sir… It won’t happen again,” He promised as he quickly took his seat in front of Lance._

_Kogane had always thought he was better than Lance; he could tell even if those words hadn’t left the other boy’s mouth, because he would hardly make eye contact with him, no matter how hard Lance tried to get along with him. Keith studied too hard – his grades were incredible, he was top of his class, yet nobody bothered him in school for some reason. Where the bullies frequently ganged up on Lance and Hunk, for some reason, Keith was simply left alone to bury his face in his physics textbook. Lance hated it._

_“Hey, Kogane,” Lance crumpled up a piece of paper with his doodles from the morning on and threw it at the back of his head. “Did you do the homework?”_

_“Stop talking to me, you’ll get me in trouble,” Keith muttered back without turning his head. Lance rolled his eyes._

_“I was only asking a question-“_

_“McClain, what did I say about listening while I’m talking?” Iverson snapped. Lance felt his fists clench and he bit back a rude comment that was about to spew from his mouth in the direction of their teacher. “Detention,”_

_“That’s not fair-“_

_“Detention, Mr. McClain. No arguments.”_

Strangely enough, that day was the last day Lance saw Keith. He looked so different now; in school, his hair was way shorter, and always neatly combed to the side to keep it out of his face. He no longer wore those ridiculous glasses that he was surprised he’d be able to see out of, and as a whole, he seemed so much different. Of course, it was because it had been almost 10 years since the last time he’d paid any attention to what he looked like. He’d grown since then. In fact, he was slightly taller than Lance now, although not by much. It was the opposite way around back in school if he remembered correctly.

Lance stayed relatively quiet as everybody got to know Keith a little better again, his leg unconsciously shaking as he scrolled through his phone idly. The most awkward part of Keith being here, was that he hadn’t remembered him from school until just now. Had Keith remembered? Should he just pretend he was kidding so to not insult him? Why was he overthinking this? It was only Keith after all. They were friends, even considering their past.

“Right, I’m insisting on kicking all of your asses at Guitar Hero yet again, no arguments,” Matt announced as he grabbed the guitars from the corner of the room. “Keith, as your initiation, you have to take me on first,”

“Why?” He asked, clearly only partially paying attention.

“Because this used to be my house, and you haven’t been tested properly yet,” Matt justified proudly, handing one of the guitars over to him. Keith reluctantly stood, and Lance kept his eyes on the pair of them as they waited for the song to start.

“This should be hilarious,” Shiro claimed as he dropped into the seat next to Lance where Matt had been sitting before.

“This is ridiculous,” Keith announced. “It’s nothing like a real guitar, it doesn’t make any sense,” He muttered as he struggled to hit the notes on time, having to look down at the buttons to check the colours every now and again. Lance felt a smirk form on his face.

“Okay, Kogane. Just because you’re good at playing a real guitar, it doesn’t mean you’ll automatically be great at this game,” Matt told him as he kept hitting perfect notes with practiced precision. “A bad gamer blames the game,”

“I’m perfectly aware that I suck at this,” Keith told him, his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched the screen. “Besides, playing a real guitar is far easier than this,”

“Okay, I’ll take your word for it, Kogane,” Matt teased as the song finished and he won by a landslide. “Who will be next to challenge me to the crown?”

Shiro immediately stood, leaving the only seat free for Keith to sit right next to Lance. He smiled as Keith settled awkwardly and watched Shiro and Matt try to distract each other, and noted how he seemed more relaxed with Shiro around than he had been in the café earlier in the week. It was very clear that the two of them had always been close, and for some reason that Lance could not explain without admitting that he had a soft spot for the man, he felt slightly jealous that Shiro had been around longer to get to know Keith properly.

“So, you must be the guy who Lance ended up staying with after the new year incident, huh?” Hunk asked. Lance tried to resist the urge to nudge his elbow into Hunk’s gut to stop him from saying too much, but his arm seemed to move of its own free will, causing his best friend to grunt in pain. “What was that for?”

“I don’t wanna talk about-“

“What, how you ended up sleeping on my sofa and making friends with my cat?” Keith asked, a small smirk on his face. The lack of confidence in his features stopped Lance from snapping back, because it was so clear that the other man was trying his best to fit in with them, even if he was feeling a little uncomfortable.

“Wait, what?!” Shiro stopped mid-game to turn to Lance, looking almost offended. “Red didn’t try to maul you?”

“No? I mean, she did scratch my face when I moved to quick but-“

“She liked you… You’re one of the few people she doesn’t hate actually,” Keith told him in a quiet voice. Lance couldn’t help but feel a little smug; all these years he couldn’t think of anything Shiro wasn’t as good at, and now he finds that his relationship with animals was much better than Shiro’s was. “Last time Shiro visited, she ate his shoes,”

“Is your cat actually a dog?” Pidge asked in disbelief, finding Red’s dislike of Shiro quite amusing. “That’s insane,”

“She was a shelter cat, she lived with dogs for a while so she kind of acts like a really clingy puppy,” Keith explained casually. “At least, that’s until other people are around… Then she’s more like a guard dog- uh… guard cat? Is that a thing?”

“It is apparently,” Lance laughed.

“Hey, you’re not off the hook yet! We just got distracted talking about Keith’s cat,” Pidge jabbed Lance painfully in the chest. “So this was the guy who you’ve been texting all day?”

Shiro raised an eyebrow and smiles. “That worked out pretty well then,” He shot a soft smile in Keith’s direction. “I told you they weren’t all animals-“

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said-“

“-except Lance, he’s an animal.” Shiro finished with a pointed look at his bandmate.

“I take it back. Keith, your brother is a bully and I’m being bullied and by default it’s your responsibility for being related to him,” Lance complained. Keith laughed as he folded his arms over his chest.

“And what am I supposed to do about him? He’s older than I am and could probably crush me if he tried,” Keith pointed out.

“You’d put up too much of a fight, I wouldn’t try,” Shiro added before turning back to the game he had now lost to Matt. “I call a rematch! That was totally unfair!”

 

 

The games night went on and Keith slowly came to realise that the animals Shiro had described in all of his stories of drunken escapades were just 4 ordinary people with their own problems and insecurities. He spent most of the evening just observing everyone and trying to figure out as much as he could about each individual so that he’d have more things to talk about if they spoke to him at all. It turned out, each of them had something that was very visibly at the forefront of their minds.

For Shiro and Matt, it was obvious. Shiro’s accident was causing him to question whether he could keep playing for the band, which had been why he’d asked Keith to join them on so many occasions in the past. Of course, had Keith been able to freely socialise with people rather than freezing up in tense situations, he would gave accepted in a heartbeat to help his brother put his doubts to bed. Matt, who Keith had known longer than most of the others, seemed to be having a bit of an identity crisis. Since he’d seen him last, Matt had changed drastically, from the colour of his hair (which he seemed to have bleached the colour out of), to his general demeanour. He wasn’t the nerdy teenager Keith remembered from school – now he was just as outgoing as Lance, if not more, and seemed much more confident. In a way, it was nice to see the man out of his shell, but whether there was another reason for him being so easy-going.

From what he remembered about Pidge and Hunk from school, the pair had really blossomed. Hunk was once a shy and introverted guy who tended to hide at the back of the class, but now his laughter filled the room and swelled with such genuine happiness, and it was contagious. He was still the Hunk he knew though, from the softness of his voice as he spoke to the warmness of his eyes that made Keith feel less isolated. Pidge was definitely still just as wonderfully intelligent but seemed a lot more content with where she had got to. Watching her tap away at her laptop while the rest of the band with a smile on her face was enough to show Keith that her age was simply not of any concern anymore, and that she had finally found a place she could fit in. Besides, she was with her brother as always. The pair of them seemed to get along just as well as ever.

Lance, however, he didn’t remember from high school at all. He didn’t know whether it had been because of him just not standing out, or if they were never in the same classes, but something had completely blanked the taller man from his memories. Perhaps they had never spoken before, and that was why it was only his most recent impression of the man stood out. Lance was _almost_ the most annoying person he’d ever met, and he still didn’t fully understand how his brain could switch attention so quickly form one subject to another. No matter how much he tried to put reason behind some of the things he said, it was practically impossible. The guy truly was an idiot, but it was oddly charming, and that was something that Keith had learned to appreciate.

He returned to his apartment in the early hours of the morning with the intention of going straight to sleep after feeding Red and getting a much-needed shower. When he got up, he’d have to get ready for the gig (which he’d finally agreed to attend thanks to both Shiro and Lance bugging him about it for a solid hour while they ate pizza earlier on). He couldn’t deny that his nerves were getting the better of him again, but it was just natural reaction to him having plans to be sociable. Despite wanting to have enough sleep, Keith found himself tossing and turning for most of the night, his mind simply not shutting off as he thought of every possible problem with his plans for tomorrow.

Crowds. Keith had never been good with crowds. What if he fell to the floor and got trampled like the last time he went to a concert? Sure, it wasn’t so bad because Shiro was with him last time, and he’d got straight back up before too much damage had been caused, but this time he’d be alone while his friends were all up on the stage. What if he couldn’t convince the security guards that he was allowed backstage to sit out of the way? Or if he turned up and they didn’t let him in? What if he couldn’t get home-

No. He couldn’t think like that. The more he worried about what could go wrong, the more likely it would be that he’d end up in some ridiculous situation. Everything was going to be okay, and he’d get through it all, just like he got through everything else.

It was worrying how much he had to consider though. Sure, he was excited about seeing what Shiro’s band sounded like (he didn’t really question him too much about it since the accident, since he assumed that he would no longer be a part of it when he’d lost his arm), and knowing that his old school friends were also a part of what his brother loved to do was and even bigger reason to go to the gig. He might hate everything about it, but at least he’d be there for the people he was desperately trying to make a good impression on.

He turned onto his side and glanced over at the window, where the light spilled into the room in silvery streaks across the room. Red was peacefully sleeping on the windowsill, the movement of her breathing silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight outside. Only two weeks into a new year, and Keith had already made a good start with the resolution he had made in secret with Red. He silently hoped that there would be more times that he could go out to play stupid games at the Holt’s house, and that Shiro would see that he was enjoying being a part of their little group of friends, even if he felt like he was intruding on some bond the five of them already had. To Keith, the fact that he’d been invited once was enough.

When he eventually drifted off, his dreams made no sense. It wasn’t often that he had dreams, or at least, ones he remembered, but the strange creatures that stalked the realms of his dreamland that night were creepy enough for him to remember them in distinct detail. His alarm pulled him from the depths of his subconscious with perfect timing, and suddenly, he was back in the real world all over again.

He swallowed his anxieties down with a cup of hot coffee as he sat at the kitchen counter and checked his phone. Today was going to be one wild ride he couldn’t get off.


	5. The Gig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance wonders if Keith has suddenly decided he doesn't want to know him and his friends for no reason other than being left on read and the usual pre-show jitters begin.
> 
> Keith watches Voltron perform for the first time, and finds, to his surprise, that he doesn't feel too out of place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> liKE 3 DAYS LATE BUT IT'S HERE

He woke up to the sound of cooking. And by sound, he didn’t mean the casual sizzling of bacon in a frying pan, or the cracking of eggs or even the microwave beeping. In Lance and Hunk’s apartment, cooking was a strict military operation, and was to be left to Hunk unless anybody else fancied having their extremities removed, accidentally or otherwise. Today just happened to be a gig day, and that meant two things. One: Hunk would make everybody the most incredible breakfast they would ever taste, and it would keep them all going through soundchecks and rehearsal. Secondly, and most unfortunately for Lance, was that the whole band would be here already.

He groaned as he rolled out of his bed and straight onto the floor. Thankfully, he’d remembered to pick up the plates that has been left in his room for god knows how long the night before, and so didn’t have half as painful a landing as he’d expected to. The noise of pans clattering together and a rather vocal argument between Pidge and Hunk prevented him from falling straight back to sleep, which to him, was completely unacceptable. He hadn’t had nearly enough sleep as it was.

He lazily reached up and grabbed his phone off the nightstand, pulling the charger out and rubbing his eyes as the brightness temporarily blinded him as the screen lit up. He hadn’t had any messages off Keith since last night, but there were several from Veronica asking whether he’d got himself a job yet or whether he’d forgotten about looking again. He sighed and deleted them, not wanting to think about the real world for a while. It was too early in the morning to be debating his existence, and the smell of freshly cooked pancakes was calling his name.

“Look who finally left his crypt,” Pidge remarked with a smirk as he walked into the kitchen. He flipped her off sleepily and rubbed his eyes again as he walked up to Hunk and rested his forehead on his back.

“Please tell me my debts have been paid, I could really use some pancakes this morning,” Lance muttered into his friend’s shoulder. Hunk simply turned around and pushed him into a seat at the breakfast bar gently before piling his plate with pancakes. Lance’s face lit up. “You are a life saver,”

“Eat. You’re talking not even speaking a comprehensible language right now, and you look like shit,” Hunk insisted as he pushed the plate closer to him. He didn’t argue with him. Instead, he began shoving pancakes into his mouth whole like he was certain he could eat them without chewing. He didn’t care that he looked ridiculous. His friends had seen him looking far more so than he currently did.

“So,” Pidge began as she pulled herself up onto the seat next to Lance and moved her laptop screen, so he could see. “You’ve gotta fill this in when you’re awake, then you don’t have to worry about your rent for a while-”

“What?” Lance asked around a mouthful of food. “Is this some job application I’m gonna mess up again? Come on, Pidge, you know I’ve only just woke up,” He whined after swallowing his mouthful of pancakes and reading what she was trying to show him.

“Trust me, it’s easy. I’ll even sit here and do it with you, so your tiny pea brain can handle it,” She mocked. “Besides, you’ll be working with Hunk so you won’t die or break too much this time,”

“Sal’s” Lance asked, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m even remotely qualified to make coffee?”

“You owe Sal $257 just on your tab, and then there’s the damages for last Monday-”

“Which was not my fault,” He argued.

“Lance, you walked straight into me. It was totally your fault,” Lance simply sighed at Hunk’s words. “Fill in the form. I promise he won’t be too harsh on you,”

“Do you not remember the last time I worked in a coffee shop, Hunk? I got fired,” He casually reminded his friend as he started to casually fill in the details on the form. “Did not end well at all,”

“This time is different; you’re not 16 and annoying anymore, Lance,”

“No, now you’re 25 and a pain in the ass,” Pidge retorted. Lance opened his mouth to defend himself, only to have his mouth covered by Pidge’s hand. “Now shut up and finish it,”

Although reluctant, Lance did as he was asked. At least if he was trying to get a job, Veronica would get off his back. With Pidge’s help, it only took a few minutes, and then he was free to go through his usual morning routine before they were due at the venue for the evening. Thankfully, Shiro and Matt wouldn’t be meeting them until it was time for soundcheck (something about Shiro needing a bit extra sleep and Matt being the only person who could safely wake him up), so that gave him an extra hour to get ready for the show tonight.

He had the pre-show jitters already; they were common whenever they had something big coming up. He still remembered their first show – now those jitters were the worst they’d ever been. After all, Lance was sure that nothing could have been worse than throwing up from being too nervous on the side of the stage right before the band were due to start their set. It was humiliating. He shuddered at the thought as he made his way into the bathroom to shower and examine every pore on his face in the mirror for the next two hours, until Hunk dragged him out to get dressed.

Throughout the day, he found himself checking his phone for messages form Keith, only to find that he had no notifications at all. He felt a little disheartened at the thought of Keith not wanting to talk to him. It made sense though. Maybe Shiro had told him something that he didn’t like about him, and that was why he didn’t want to talk. He tried to cast those thoughts aside as he waited around lazily for the time that he would finally be back to doing what he loved.

“You’re acting weird,” Pidge stated as Lance paced around the living room later on.  “Can you stop doing that? You’re gonna wear the carpet down,”

“I’m bored,” Lance whined. “How long until-“

“Half an hour,” She interrupted. “Surely you can find something to do until then. C’mon Lance, it’s not like you’re gonna die if you aren’t doing something stupid,”

Hunk snorted from across the room. “That’s what you think, but I think we’d be better off just letting him do what he wants until we need to get out of here and meet Shiro,”

Lance sighed dramatically as he fell back onto the sofa, almost crushing Pidge in the process. “Do you think Keith hates me?”

Hunk blinked in confusion. “Why would he hate you?”

“He’s not replied to any of my texts all day,” He muttered. “Maybe I said something wrong or offended him or-“

“Lance will you shut up for once? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know you well enough to hate you yet,” Pidge shoved him to the side so his legs were no longer draped over her own, causing him to topple off the sofa and onto the floor by her feet. “If you’re that bored, we can head out and get some coffee or McDonalds something before soundcheck. Just please stop whining,”

Lance’s face lit up slightly. Finally. A distraction that would stop him overthinking the previous night and looking for a reason that Keith would not want to talk to him. He didn’t move to get up but shoved his phone back into the pocket of his jeans as Pidge hopped over the back of the sofa to grab her hoodie. Hunk rolled his eyes but smiled as he helped him to his feet, with his phone in his pocket and guitar case in hand, they were finally ready to leave.

By far, Lance’s favourite part about playing gigs was that he got to see what the venue looked like when it was practically empty. Something about the barren space which would later be filled with people waiting to hear him and his friends play their music was somewhat humbling to him. As he stood in the middle of the room, watching as engineers moved around the room setting up the equipment needed to make the night go ahead without any problems, he cast his mind back to the first time he’d stood in this room. Back then, he wasn’t the only one; hundreds of people were packed into the small venue to see a reputable band who would only be playing one show in the city. Just thinking back to the night of dancing and singing was all he needed to hype himself up for the evening all over again.

Soundcheck went without any issue, and before long, he found himself sat on one of the stage monitors with his legs dangling into the pit below the stage. Music filled the room at a much lower level than it would be tonight, and Lance felt himself relax as he tapped his foot along to the beat and sang along to the song in his head. They had around 2 hours before the doors would open, and he still hadn’t heard from Keith. _Will he even show up?_ He thought to himself, his stomach churning at the thought of him being scared away. He didn’t want to lose a potential friend, even if said friend had already been declared an unspoken rival. It would give Lance something to work for.

“Why are you moping, huh?” Shiro asked as he walked through the doors at the back of the venue and approached the stage, placing a fresh coffee on the stage for him and resting his arms just to the side of Lance’s legs. “Did your latest girl not text you back?”

“Ha ha. Very funny, Shiro,” Lance deadpanned, hopping down off the stage to stand at Shiro’s level and grabbing the coffee off the stage. “You heard from Keith at all today? He’s not answered my texts,”

Shiro raised an eyebrow slightly but shook his head. “He called me this morning asking if a flannel shirt was appropriate to wear, but that’s all,” Lance smiled. “As far as I know he’ll be here on time. I’m gonna assume he’ll just be in the crowd and not backstage though,”

Lance nodded and slipped his phone back into the back pocket of his jeans. “Think he’ll like it here tonight?” He asked casually.

Shiro shrugged. “He’s into the same music as I am. I took him to his first concert when he was like 10…” He reminisced, leaning with his back against the stage and folding his arms over his chest as he spoke. “We were in Arizona visiting his dad at the time, and there just happened to be a Green Day gig coming up that I really wanted to go to. Turns out Keith’s dad was a pretty cool guy and got the two of us tickets. He spent the whole night sat on my shoulders singing and laughing,”

Lance’s eyes softened as he listened to Shiro speak about his brother so fondly. One of the few times that he ever saw Shiro’s soft side was when he was talking about his family and friends, and it was so nice to see him relaxed rather than being stressed about work all the time. He’d never expected to meet any of his family, and yet here he was, still waiting for Shiro’s brother to text him back so he’d know for sure that he hadn’t messed anything up again.

“I never thought he was the type who’d even like the music,” Lance admitted. “Sure, he has the weird hair and looks like he’s been stuck in the 80s time-warp for most of his life, but-“

Shiro laughed slightly. “Don’t let him hear you say that,”

“Do you think he’ll like the show though? Like, what if he absolutely hates it and we never see him again because we’ve scared him off and-“

“Lance?”

“Mm?”

“Stop talking now,” Shiro put his prosthetic hand on his shoulder reassuringly. “I think he’ll surprise you. But just… Go easy on him for a while, okay? He’s not really used to getting so much attention from people and interacting with so many new people might be a bit overwhelming for him. Just remember it’s not as easy for him as it is for you,”

Lance nodded in understanding. “Got it. Make sure he has some space but feels comfortable. I can totally do that,”

With a wider smile on his face, Shiro left Lance in the main hall of the venue while he walked around to double check everything was in order before they all had to be backstage to get ready. He spent the next hour or so idly pacing around the room, dancing to the songs he recognised, and finishing the coffee Shiro had picked up for him. By the time he’d finished it, he’d already made his way into the green room, where he found Pidge, Hunk and Matt already lounging around on their phones.

“You guys need some more energy or something if we want this show to be decent,” Lance remarked as he sank down into a seat next to Matt.

“Says the guy who literally wanted to kill the person who woke him up every day the first time we went on tour,” Matt joked. “I mean, you could have at least gone easy with the whole chasing your tech around a parking lot for half an hour as a wake-up call-”

“You deserved that,” He interrupted. “You shouldn’t have made me get up at 5:30 in the damn morning. This is different – it’s my prime hours and I’ve had coffee,”

He snorted. “Well you shouldn’t have stayed up watching shitty rom-com movies until 3. If you’d actually slept you wouldn’t have been so mad,”

Lance grumbled but relaxed slightly at the sound of conversation around him. Something to focus on. His nerves were starting to make him jittery, and although he knew it couldn’t be helped. He found that he was mentally slapping himself for the next few minutes, certain he was annoying Matt or Hunk while he tapped his foot impatiently on the floor. He hated clock-watching, but that was what he ended up doing in the remaining hour before doors; waiting and waiting for the clock to hit 6:00 so he could sneak around and see how many people were already here.

In truth, he just wanted to see if Keith had already arrived.

 

* * *

 

 

He only vaguely knew what he was expecting. When Lance had that him he was in a band, and that he should go to their gig that Saturday night, he honestly didn’t know how to take it in any way other than a joke. They’d known each other for a little over a week when he’d asked; and by that, he was excluding the week prior while the two of them had spent time texting each other after New Years. For Keith this what he could easily call nightmare fuel. With a burning hatred for large groups of people, he always tried to keep himself to himself and stay away from crowds if he could, and it had been this way for a large portion of his life. Honestly, if it weren’t for Shiro performing, he would have politely declined the offer and spent the evening with Red like he’d been promising to do every night for the last week.

But he couldn’t deny how happy and excited he seemed about the whole thing. His face simply lit up at the mere mention of the band, and Keith admitted that he didn’t want to see what it looked like when that smile dropped off his face by making up an excuse for not being able to attend. Without the option to back out, he kept telling himself that this would be amazing for his self-confidence – maybe his resolution spoken to Red that night would come true much sooner than he thought, if he could only keep this up and stop isolating himself like he had been before. Instead of complaining about having to get up and leave the comfort of his apartment, he walked over to his wardrobe and started to browse for something more appropriate to wear than his usual ratty old red t-shirt and joggers. He didn’t need to stick out like a sore thumb when he could blend in and just enjoy the music.

But what to wear?

He realised pretty soon that he didn’t even know the genre of music he was going to be listening to. He silently hoped that Shiro hadn’t tricked him into attending some terrible pop concert which was all pretty much played out of a karaoke machine or was full of backing tracks because the band couldn’t actually play live. He sent his brother a quick text asking what he should wear, before settling on a red flannel and an old Green Day shirt he’d been gifted for Christmas from Shiro a few years back.

Of course, as soon as he arrived at the venue later on that evening, he knew he’d made the right choice with his wardrobe. Apparently, some of the other people who were waiting to go inside had the same idea, and the sea of flannel, band shirts and skinny jeans helped him relax as he listened to the conversations around him. As far as he could hear, a lot of the people here had already heard of the band and were very excited about the show itself. In front of him, three girls chatted among themselves in excited babbles, while wearing matching shirts with the band’s logo on. He internally rolled his eyes. _He really called it Voltron?_

He felt as though he’d turned up to this gig way too prepared. He’d brought his phone, a battery pack which was shoved into the front pocket of his jeans, thankfully without it looking too bulky and obvious, ID and cash in case he needed to get a cab home at the end of the night… Every possible situation had been carefully thought through and solved with an item that he’d brought along with him, so there was no chance at all that it would be a complete disaster. What made it worse was that most of the ‘fans’ that had turned up almost looked like they’d just rolled out of bed. He might have looked the part in his flannel and skinny jeans, but that didn’t stop Keith from feeling incredibly outcasted among the crowd.

The chatter between the small groups outside was entertainment enough to keep him occupied with the half hour wait in the cold, but it didn’t stop him from tugging his shirt sleeves over his hands to stop my fingers from falling off. Sure, it should be warming up, but it absolutely _had_ to be below freezing outside, especially when the wind was blowing straight down his neck. To avoid this, Keith simply took his hair out of the tie and shook it a little to cover the skin on the back of his neck. Sure, it would probably look a mess, but he didn’t care. It was keeping him warm and that was all that mattered.

Thankfully, inside it was warm, and within 10 minutes, he felt himself becoming more comfortable amongst the crowd. Luckily, he’d stuck with one of the groups at the front of the line, and so was within touching distance of the barrier between the crowd and the stage; perfect for watching the band play. With no idea what to expect, Keith couldn’t help but be excited. He’d never heard Lance sing or play the guitar, and he had no idea what the others did in the band other than Shiro, who he knew had the voice of an angel.

The three girls wearing the matching shirts from the line stood in front of him, thankfully slightly shorter than he was, which gave him the advantage of being able to see the stage a little better. Once the band were playing, however, he knew that it would be much more difficult to see anything, but there would be a better chance of slipping to the front against the barrier so there wasn’t anybody in his line of sight other than the people up on stage. He reminded himself that it didn’t matter anyway; he was here to support his brother and new-found friends and that was all. He didn’t want to seem too eager.

After a few minutes, the lights dimmed, and the crowd started to move around a little more, the cheering and chanting getting louder and the energy in the room building up. He’d missed this. For a brief moment, Keith felt a part of something – he felt like he belonged, and without any embarrassment at all, he felt himself cheering along with the others around him. Before long, Hunk appeared from the side of the stage and took his place behind the drum kit, quickly followed by Pidge with her bass guitar in hand. Suddenly, the bass from the drums hit him in the chest like he’d just been punched. Adrenaline, excitement, screaming, shouting. It wasn’t just a crowd anymore. They all moved in time with one another, and it was amazing.

And then Lance stepped onto the stage. If Keith’s smile could get any wider, his jaw might dislocate. He seemed to look around at the crowd for a moment before taking his place (stage left, he noted silently). The girls stood in front of him were very clearly vying for Lance’s attention, and it worked, as he looked down at the three of them and winked, only for his face to brighten more. Had he seen him? Keith didn’t dwell on the thought, for Lance had started to play along with Pidge and Hunk, bringing in a fast-paced rhythm to match the heavy boom of the drums as they build up to Shiro’s appearance on stage too.

For a long time, Shiro had tried to deny that he wanted to be in a band. In fact, there was a time when he would deny it whenever anybody even remotely mentioned music to him. It was his big secret, and when it had first been revealed, he was incredibly embarrassed about it. Keith had never stopped looking up to him though and continued to do so for the years that followed. Now though, he really was looking up to him, to where he stood up on that stage behind a microphone, a huge grin spread across his face.

Then the drums and bass cut out suddenly, and Lance began to play a very familiar guitar riff. Keith watched with wide eyes, suddenly even happier to be where he was. The music built again, and as Shiro started to sing, so did the crowd around him. The words fell from his lips before he could stop them, and he suddenly found that he was enjoying the show a lot more than he anticipated. The energy in the room, on the stage, it was incredible to feel – almost like electricity in the air, and the music that connected every one of the people in the room made him feel even more comfortable and, strangely enough, made him feel at home.

He didn’t expect to see Lance jumping around on stage as he played, but the man’s energy was intense and contagious he looked completely lost in the music, just like Keith felt. Even Pidge seemed to catch onto this eruption of energy, and between the two of them, they kept the attention of the audience either side of the stage. Shiro continued to sing, walking around the stage with the microphone and smiling at the audience, and then at Keith as he spotted him among them. It only took one song, and Keith was completely hooked on the music for the rest of the night.

Several familiar songs later, and the last chord of Lance’s guitar ringing out into nothingness, and the show was over. The lights came up again, and in the sweaty haze of the all-out party that had just commenced in the pit, Keith found himself stunned. He’d expected so little, and yet here he was, completely shocked that his friends were so talented – that his brother had hidden this talent for so long. It wasn’t until people had started to file out of the venue that Keith finally moved and began following them outside.

Until he was yanked to the side and through a door to the side of the stage. His initial panic was soon calmed when he saw Lance’s beaming face and was pulled into a tight hug.

“You actually came…” He muttered as he squeezed Keith a little tighter than he was used to. “You weren’t answering my texts and I thought you didn’t want to come and that I’d done something wrong and-“

“Lance,”

“-Shiro said you were trying to pick out a shirt and then I thought that you’d just started ignoring me and-“

“Lance,” He said more firmly, gently slapping the side of the other man’s face to silence him. “Shut up.”

A subtle blush spread across Lance’s cheeks, and Keith smiled. “Sorry… I’m just really glad you showed up,”

“Me too. You were amazing,” Keith admitted genuinely. “I didn’t know you-“

“Lance!” A girly squeal cut him off and he watched as Lance’s attention snapped away from him, and to a girl behind him, who looked at Lance with a gut-wrenching familiarity. He felt his stomach drop a little as he simply stepped around Keith and rushed to the girl’s side.

Of course this had to happen.

“Hey,” Shiro’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts, and he smiled again, turning to hug his brother. “You liked the show?”

“It was great,” He assured him, sparing one more look at Lance and the girl with a slightly sad look in his eyes.

“Oh,” Shiro almost whispered. “So Lance, huh?”

“What do you mean?” He asked, still not fully paying attention as he watched Lance take the girl’s hands in his own and talk to her with as much, if not more enthusiasm than he had with Keith just a few minutes before.

“Still a dumbass after all these years,” He remarked. He opened his mouth to defend himself but was immediately cut off. “Come on, you big gay disaster, we have an afterparty to get to,”

Keith’s eyes widened. “What-“

“Don’t question it,” His brother assured him, and without warning, tossed him over his shoulder. “Tonight you’ll forget all about being sad and lonely, I promise,”

If there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he was 100% not ready for what was about to happen.

Before he could say another word to argue, Shiro carried him out of a door at the back of the venue and set him down on the floor, where Matt, Pidge and Hunk were all stood, grinning as they loaded equipment back into Matt’s van. It looked like the show had gone well from both sides; Keith had loved the music and finally felt involved in something, and his new friends looked so happy and excited about the evening that he couldn’t help but broaden his smile.

“Hey Keith,” Matt greeted as Shiro placed him back down on his feet. “Enjoy the show?”

“It was great,” He told them all honestly. “Not what I was expecting, but it was amazing,”

“Well get used to it, Kogane,” Matt told him as he slung an arm around his shoulder. “You’re now permanently part of the crew. You’re welcome,”

“Matt we talked about this-” Shiro interrupted.

“Nonono, you said that I could offer whether he wanted to join or not, and this is a great idea anyway. Besides, he’s smiling-“

“’Kashi what’s happening?” Keith asked in a small voice. Suddenly, he was all too aware that there were so many people around him, and he felt trapped.

“It’s nothing… Matt just had this idea that you could step in as our new guitarist if you wanted to, but if that’s too much then-“

“Why me?” He asked the older man, almost in disbelief. He’d been asked the same question before, only for him to decline for the obvious reason, but what had changed? He still wasn’t sure that he was comfortable with these people, and they hardly knew him.

“Because we like you,” Pidge told him as she sat on one of the flight cases that they were waiting to load into the van. “And you put Lance in his place a little. He’s way more chilled when you’re around oddly enough,”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I forget that you’ve only known this Lance for a few weeks…” Hunk said as he tied his headband back into his hair properly. “He’s… Well, he’s a bit of a mess at the best of times. He’s got good intentions though, don’t get me wrong, it’s just-”

“He doesn’t know how to prioritise things,” Pidge finished. “I’m sure you’ve noticed… He loves this band more than anything, and we do too but…”

With a sigh, Shiro sat down too. “We know it’s not going to get us anywhere,” Pidge gave him an almost sad smile. “Maybe back when I still had two functioning arms, but now… We can’t play any of the songs we wrote and things have just been slowing down since. Lance just won’t listen when we tell him that this isn’t a realistic idea for a job,”

Keith gave them a small, sad smile. Of course, he’d love to help his brother out in any way possible and knowing that Lance was so invested in his music was just another reason to take the offer into consideration. But he already had things to worry about – namely, working for Lotor all week and not having much time for anything else. He pushed his hair back out of his face and sighed.

“Let me think about it,” He told them. _And figure out if this is really a good idea._


	6. Ocean Avenue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out at Altea was never uneventful for Lance and his friends. 
> 
> Keith just makes things more interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look! An update I actually enjoyed writing! 
> 
> I'm naming chapters after songs from now on, I should have from the start but I'm an idiot who can't keep an idea going but HEY AT LEAST THERE'S AN UPDATE RIGHT?
> 
> This chapter is very much vent writing since I'm too broke to drink at the moment so HAVE SOME DRUNKEN VOLTRON

Seeing Nyma at the Voltron gig was the last thing Lance had expected, but the excitement of seeing her was enough for him to completely forget what he was doing and rush straight over to her. She greeted him with a wide smile as he pulled her into a hug, not even looking back as his arm instinctively wrapped around her shoulders while he talked.

“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight,” He said as they walked together. She still had that warm smile he had fallen for when they first met. “Did I even tell you we had a show here tonight?”

“You didn’t need to,” She replied, not pushing him away as his arm snaked around her shoulder and instead, relaxing into his one-armed embrace. “The show was sold out, and from what I saw there were still people outside hoping to get tickets,”

That surprised him more than Nyma’s sudden appearance. “Really?”

She nodded. “You did it, Lance,” She almost whispered, her arms moving up to wrap around his shoulders. “You made it,”

Something about her words had an edge to them that made him feel very uncertain about her intentions. Despite this, his hands still rested on her waist and he held the signature smile that he was most known for. Nyma being here was the perfect end to a perfect day; he’d not expected her to want anything to do with him at all after their rather awkward breakup a month back, so the relief in his eyes as he simply held her there was clear as day.

“I mean,” He spoke in a soft, almost whispered voice, valuing the closeness as her face was so close to his. “It’s one venue sold out… We can always do better,”

“And you will, right?” She asked expectantly.

“That all depends,” He told her with a soft sigh. He watched as her face dropped slightly, almost disappointed. “I’m not sure the others want this as much as I do… This band is my life. They just all seem… Distracted with the rest of their lives,”

Nyma rolled her eyes in frustration. “Then put your foot down, Lance. Stop letting them push you around,”

His brow furrowed. “They aren’t pushing me around,” He clarified. “They just want what’s best for us all. That’s far from being pushy, Nyma…”

With a half-smile, the disappointment present in her sharp features, Nyma’s arms moved back to her sides, and she gently pushed Lance’s hands off her waist. “This is why we were never going to work,” She whispered into his ear, a bitter edge to her voice. “You’re such a coward Lance,”

And with that, she left with the last of the stragglers that were still filing out of the main hall. Lance stood alone for a moment, not knowing exactly how to respond to what seemed like extreme rejection from somebody he still cared for deeply. A dull ache throbbed in his chest as he turned to find his friends, thoughts mulling over that same word that had haunted him for longer than anybody knew.

_Coward._

He wasn’t a coward – at least, that was what he liked to think. He never wanted to be known as the guy who would back out of the simplest of activities for being scared, and so, even when he was just a child, he’d go to the extreme to impress his friends and family. Competition was common in the McClain household when he was growing up; he’d be encouraged to do his best in whatever he felt the need to try in, and usually, these competitions involved Lance challenging his older brother to ridiculous tasks just to prove that he was better at them.

Then, as the years passed, those competitions stopped being so fun, because the people he challenged started getting better at everything. Lance didn’t necessarily stop improving, but it was at a much slower pace to what he could see in the other kids. He wanted to be smart, athletic and artistic, anything to make up for what he was lacking on the inside, and what he realised he needed in the first place. Confidence. Lance still lacked it, even if he tried to convince the world otherwise and succeeded to some extent. 

Nyma was a part of his life for only a short amount of time, and while he was wholeheartedly invested in their relationship (whether it starting with thanks to them both having an interest in acquiring specific illegal substances or not), she never seemed so enthusiastic about being in a committed relationship with Lance. In fact, Lance often heard the things his friends would say about his girlfriend and, although briefly, see how they could think such things of her. They’d been together for almost 6 months, but he had to admit that things were getting a little bumpy soon enough, and so, here he was. Still trying to get over the hurt of what happened.

“Lance are you coming?” Hunk’s voice called from the doors to the side of the stage. He looked over, his attention drawn to the words of his best friend. “We’re going to Altea tonight. I know how much you like it there, it’d be a shitty thing to do if I didn’t come and get you,”

Lance smiled slightly. “Yeah,” He started as he paced over to Hunk. “I think I could use a few drinks after that show,”

Hunk beamed, his smile practically lighting up the room. “Keith’s coming with us too,” He told him as he led him backstage again, to the familiar narrow halls that led them through to the green room. “Shiro says he’s never been to a club before,”

Lance’s eyes widened. “How?” He simply refused to believe that Keith Kogane had never been out for a drink before. How had he functioned without alcohol and loud music for so long?

“I dunno man,” Hunk sighed. “He’s pretty quiet. Maybe we should just take it easy on him tonight. He’s probably really nervous about being around loads of drunk people,”

He didn’t say it aloud, but Lance agreed. Not wanting to make Keith uncomfortable in any way and risk him ducking back into that shell he’d been in the first time they’d met, he made himself a promise that he’d keep a relatively clear head and, for once, try to be a responsible adult.

With 5 people crammed into Matt’s van along with the equipment and Matt himself driving, they headed back to the Holt residence to leave the van, then headed straight back out into the city. Lance knew the club they were heading to; Altea was one of his favourite places to go to on a night out, mainly because of the feel-good atmosphere that it seemed to ebb with while he lost himself in the music, but also because of the crowd it attracted. The glowing neon lights of pink and blue caught his attention immediately as they turned the corner of one of the quieter streets and seeing the small line on the right-hand side of the entrance only made him more excited about getting inside.

He was only half paying attention to his peers when he noticed Keith suddenly by his side. He looked distant, and Lance wondered whether they had been overstepping any boundaries by encouraging him to join them on their night out. Not wanting to seem overbearing, Lance simply nudged his side with his elbow gently, causing Keith to look up from his almost trance-like state and smile at him awkwardly.

“Feeling okay, Mullet?” He asked casually, though quietened his voice slightly so the others in their group couldn’t hear him as much. Keith nodded, a clear façade hiding the reality of his nervousness. Lance could see right through it. “Nervous?”

“Could you tell?” He asked almost sarcastically. “I’m just not all that into drunk people dancing around and not having any control over what they’re doing, that’s all…”

Lance smiled slightly. “Well I’ll be around all night if you need me,” He promised. “And if you don’t want to come to me, we’re all here. There’s a smoking area that’s nice if you need some air, so if you need it, come and grab me and we’ll go down,”

Lance watched as a more genuine smile appeared on Keith’s face. It was a sign that Lance had picked up on over the short time that he had known him that seemed to mean he felt much less uncomfortable. A smile was good. His smile was good.

“Thanks, Lance,” He said quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind,”

As usual, Altea was busy and bustling with the usual crowd; groups of people clumped together in different parts of the room, and the large dance floor almost entirely occupied. The lights from the stage area kept the club lit in soft blue light, while other flashes of colour caught Lance’s eye from behind the DJ booth. Of course, he knew the entire layout of the nightclub – all the routes to the balconies and different rooms had been ingrained into his mind from the countless nights of drunken rushing around in search of his friends when they’d been separated. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember one night here he’d not left with a smile on his face.

With that same excited smile on his face, Lance grabbed Keith’s hand and dragged him to the side of the room and up to the bar. Knowing that the money he’d earned from the show was supposed to be to pay Veronica back and to get the rent paid on time this month, he called over the familiar barmaid who had been in the middle of replacing a half empty bottle of vodka behind her. She greeted him with a warm smile and leaned over the bar slightly to hear what he was saying over the loud music that would have consumed most of the conversation among people inside.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, McClain,” She yelled over the music. “The usual I’m guessing?”

Lance grinned and held up two fingers. “Double tonight, Romelle,” By the look on Keith’s face as he stood next to him at the bar, which was currently not half as busy as it usually was, it was definitely the first time he’d been somewhere that had all their alcohol on show behind the bar like this. As Romelle poured their drinks and slid four shots across the bar to them, Keith’s face turned to Lance, as though he was looking for approval. “Get some vodka in your system, Kogane,” He told him over the sound of the music and pushed the clear plastic cup filled with vodka and coke to him.

Keith eyed the cup suspiciously, then moved to pick it up. Lance stopped him and handed one of the colourful shots to him instead. “What is it?”

“Trust me, it’s good,” Lance assured him. He brought one of his own shots – filled with some bright blue alcohol that vaguely tasted like raspberries – to his lips before gesturing for Keith to pick one too. As he expected, he hesitantly picked up the red one and held it up in the same way Lance was. “Ready?”

Keith nodded, and Lance watched as the pair of them downed their shots. To his surprise, Keith’s face lit up and he eagerly grabbed the other blue shot as Lance grabbed the red one. The familiar feeling of alcohol burning at the back of his throat only made Lance even happier to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be judged for not having a job or career to fall back on. Without a second thought, he grabbed his drink with one hand, and pulled Keith to the dance floor with the other to find their friends.

 

* * *

 

 

He’d forgotten how long it had been since he last let himself get this drunk. As the night went on and more and more alcohol was handed to him, Keith found himself turning back into the giggly drunk that he always tried to hide behind his mask of awkwardness. Shiro looked like he was having the time of his life, dancing around like Keith had never seen before (even at those times when he’d had a little too much to drink at Christmas every year). The big sigh of relief that he found was that, although he didn’t remember it being this way before, alcohol simply made it easier for him to socialize.

It was as if his anxiety had just packed up and gone on holiday for the night. He danced like he would never have the guts to while sober, he talked to strangers who he randomly bumped into like they were old friends, and for once, he didn’t feel like he was getting in the way of everybody else’s way. The music was loud, and the bass could be felt vibrating through his feet from the concrete floor as it throbbed through his chest, and gradually, it just added to the feeling of intoxication.

He checked the time around 2am and decided that it was about time he looked for Lance, who had disappeared into the smoking area about an hour ago. After all, it was down to him that he was even able to leave his apartment. He stumbled slightly as he pushed past the groups of people dancing and singing along to the lyrics of some shitty pop song that was way too overplayed to be acceptable to sing sober and started to make his way down the stairs toward the smoking area.

The chill of the air hit his skin immediately, but the warm buzz of alcohol under his skin stopped the cold from chilling him too much. Having shed his flannel shirt an hour ago and tied it around his waist, his bare arms were now exposed to the outdoors. Spotting Lance in the smoking area was difficult. The small space was packed tightly with people at a much higher density than inside, and he had to stand back on one of the steps to look around for his friend before pushing his way through the crowd toward him.

He was smoking, of course, stood with two people Keith didn’t recognise. From the look of his messy hair and bags under his eyes (along with the slight redness to them which he tried not to notice), it was very clear that Lance was completely wasted. He laughed along to what the two others said to him, occasionally pausing to listen and take another drag of his cigarette, and deep down, Keith wondered whether he was actually going to be welcomed into the conversation or simply turned away. For a while, he just watched them, ignoring the shifting of his vision thanks to the alcohol pulsing through his blood.

The man to Lance’s left looked comfortable enough that he could have claimed Altea to be his home. He wore a grey beanie on his head, with his bleached blonde hair tucked back into it and barely showing from the glow of the floodlight that lit the smoking area. He was dressed similar to Lance – although it seemed that his clothes were far worse for wear, with more tears and rips in his jeans and jacket than Keith had ever seen on Lance’s clothes. He spoke in a casual tone; familiar, like he’d known Lance for a long time. He couldn’t deny the pang of jealousy he felt knowing that he’d known Lance longer.

The other man was familiar. In fact, Keith tried his best to avoid eye contact with him for fear of what might happen to him at work. It was uncharacteristic of Lotor to drink, and he would have never noticed it was him if his long white hair had not given his identity away so easily. He would have at least expected his boss to be drinking at a fancier bar than Altea, especially considering how often he looked down on Keith and his co-workers. To see the man acting so casual while talking to one of _his_ friends was strange and made him feel uneasy.

“Keith!” Lance called as soon as he caught sight of him hovering near one of the posts holding the shelter up. He blinked a few times and smiled at Lance, who’s face had lit up, a light pink flush dusting his cheeks thanks to his drunken state. Without saying a word, he made his way over to the three of them. The last thing he needed tonight was for Lotor to see him as his usual drunk self. He didn't want to get himself fired.

“Keith Kogane,” Lotor announced in a surprised tone. “You were the last person I was expecting to see here tonight,”

“You two know each other?” Lance questioned as he took another drag of his cigarette.

“I work for him,” Keith said with more confidence than he expected to have. Lance nodded and held the cigarette out to him – an offer he was about to refuse, having not smoked for the last 5 years at least, but accepted without any hesitation. He took a drag, feeling the hit to the back of his throat and holding back the urge to cough at the familiar feeling after not experiencing it for so long.

“Saves me introducing you then,” Lance chuckled before nudging the man to his left. “This is Rolo. We go way back,”

“Way back to the times you’d find me at school and beg for me to sell you cheap party supplies,” Rolo added with a smirk. He held a hand out to Keith to shake. He took it gratefully, relieved that he was being offered an opportunity instead of having to figure out the social cues for himself. “Kogane, huh? You’re the nerdy kid from school who left a year early?”

Keith smiled awkwardly and nodded, a little embarrassed at the mention of his school years. “That’s me,” He confirmed. “Scholarships worked out apparently,”

“You’re doing better than we are if you’re working for Lotor,” Rolo commented, shooting the tallest man a disapproving look. Lotor simply smiled, which was a rare sight in itself and made Keith feel uneasy.

“What can I say? I came from money and sometimes it just doesn’t go anywhere,” Lotor almost bragged as he sipped his drink – some vile concoction that smelled like strong liquor, coloured a bright purple with the glass decorated with yellow embellishments.

“No need to brag,” Lance muttered. “Some of us still don’t have money. Ever heard of the McClain charity?”

“What’s that?” Lotor asked with a strange interest as his attention turned to Lance. Funny. Lotor never struck him as the gullible type.

“You give me money and I try not to be annoying for a while,” He smirked. Keith laughed slightly as he handed the cigarette back to Lance and Rolo smiled. Lotor’s brow furrowed slightly. "Or you could keep that stick up your ass. You've not even offered to buy us drinks yet,"

“I’d pay you if you were willing to work for the money,” He added simply, a smirk on his face as he brought his drink to his lips once more and sipped the purple liquid while keeping eye contact with Lance. Rolo coughed as he took a drag of his cigarette, and Keith felt his eyes widen a little at the implication Lotor was making. Lance didn’t seem phased by it.

“I’m not that type of girl, sorry,” He joked. “C’mon, Keith, I think Pidge was looking for us,”

Keith nodded simply and stuck to Lance’s side as he stepped on his cigarette and led him quickly away from the smoking area – away from Lotor and Rolo – and back into the main hall of the venue.

“What was all that about?” Keith asked him over the music as they made their way back up the stairs.

“Lotor has no shame and asks every time he’s here,” Lance replied simply. “I don’t need money that badly. I’d rather starve than take his money in return for sexual favours,” He pulled the door open and gestured for Keith to lead on, which he did without question. Deciding the conversation between his boss and Lance in the smoking area should be left unspoken about, he cast it from his mind as best as he could, taking Lance’s hand and pulling him toward the dancefloor.

It was almost perfect timing. The sound of drums and guitar filled his ears and the bass thudded through his chest as the crowd of people around the two of them stared to move in time with the music. Lance’s face lit up as recognition filled his features and he began to sing along with Keith to a song he hadn’t heard in years.

_There’s a place off ocean avenue, where I used to sit and talk with you_

_We were both 16 and it felt so right, sleeping all day, staying up all night_

Memories of his teenage years flooded back suddenly; spending his evenings in his bedroom with his guitar playing the very same riff that he heard from the speakers now, singing along to the same lyrics, but feeling so much different. He looked to Lance, who’s arms were raised in the air as he danced along, carefree and happy. His face flushed slightly at the sight of the other man looking so relaxed, and not even worrying about him noticing, he danced along too, moving with the crowd and letting the music completely overtake him.

_If I could find you now things would get better, we could leave this town and run forever_

_Let your waves crash down on me and take me away_

Their eyes met for a moment as they moved to the beat, and Lance’s smile grew. Unknowingly, Keith moved closer to him, still not completely in control of himself while so intoxicated. Lance didn’t move away from him, instead, he welcomed the new-found closeness and gently placed a hand on Keith’s waist. His heart skipped a beat and he felt his face heat up even more. Was this actually happening? Not wanting to move away, he held onto the other man’s shoulders to steady himself as they danced, still managing to stumble over his feet despite the stability Lance was providing him with.

The song was drawing to a close. Lance’s face was inching closer and closer to his and his stomach was doing backflips. He looked into Lance’s eyes, hooded and an almost impossible shade of ocean blue that stood out so prominently against his tan complexion. His heart was racing. Their foreheads butted together and the two of them shared a shy smile. This was happening. He felt sick-

He was going to be sick.

The colour drained from his face as he rushed away from the dance floor and into the nearest bathroom, where he fell into a stall and promptly emptied his gut, the stench of alcohol suddenly so much more obvious. He groaned and coughed as he tried to get rid of the awful feeling in his stomach and the burning sensation in the back of his throat as the bile settled on the back of his tongue. Of course this was going to happen. The night had gone far to well for him to get lucky.

“Keith?” Shiro’s warm voice reverberated around the tiled bathroom and he groaned again, half in response. “Keith are you okay?”

He wiped his mouth and attempted to swill his mouth out with the remaining saliva that had collected in the bottom of his mouth before spitting it down the toilet too. He felt disgusting, slumped down against the wall of a toilet cubicle with bile breath and a now pounding head. “Drank to much,” He replied hoarsely.

“I think it’s time we got you home,” He couldn’t argue with his brother on that. He longed for his bed. His feet ached, and he needed water. “Are you going to your place or back to ours?”

He rubbed his face carefully before standing and flushing the evidence of his drunken embarrassment, then opened the stall door to face Shiro. “Home,” He rasped. “Need water…”

“Matt’s gone to get you some,” He assured him. “I think you partied too hard,” With a glance over at his brother, Keith caught the smile that lingered on his face despite his concern.

“I nearly threw up on Lance’s face,” He stated simply, then laughed slightly as he thought of the possible outcome of the situation had he not decided to run away. Lance would have killed him, he was sure.

“Why were you so close to his face, huh?” Shiro teased, gently nudging his shoulder with his prosthetic. Keith stifled a giggle and leaned against the sinks, looking into the mirror that hung on the wall. He didn’t look as bad as he expected to, but the exhaustion was clear as day.

“I’m a big gay mess and I want my bed,” Keith eventually told him. Shiro’s smile turned softer and he gently ruffled the younger man’s hair.

“C’mon. I’ll get someone to stay the night with you, just so I know you won’t die from alcohol poisoning in the night,”

“Can it be Lance?” He found himself asking before he could stop the words. Shiro raised an eyebrow and he giggled again. “Red likes Lance,”

Shiro sighed, but chuckled. “Whatever you say, Keith,”


	7. Stay Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has control over his drunken self.
> 
> Keith can't deal with alcohol as well as he thought he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY SEASON FINALE!
> 
> I wanted to post this before season 8 but I honestly forgot I'd already got it drafted. I'm kinda sad that Voltron is over now, but that's not going to stop me from finishing this AU. I'm desperately trying to get a chapter out every week from now onwards, so hopefully updates will be more regular 
> 
> (Song title chapters from now on will be the songs I listened to most while writing the chapter if that makes any sense)

He didn’t really expect Shiro to trust him enough to look after Keith after what had happened back at Altea, but he knew he couldn’t just leave him alone when he was already too drunk to function. In all honesty, it was a hope that he’d end up at Keith’s apartment again that night anyway, no matter what the circumstance was. Mentally, he kicked himself for almost taking advantage of Keith’s drunken state. He couldn’t do anything he wouldn’t want to do sober and wanted to be sure that it wasn’t just drunken Keith’s mind telling him to do the things he had before he even thought about it. Besides, he had to make sure that he didn’t have the worst hangover in the morning by attempting to nurse it with his miraculous hangover cures.

The taxi ride home wasn’t as awkward as he expected it to be; Hunk sat in the front with the driver, while he and Keith sat in the back on their way back to their apartment block. The conversation between them was minimal thanks to the throbbing in his head and ringing in his ears, but it was safe to say that everybody had enjoyed themselves enough to count the evening as a success. In all honesty, Lance never thought he’d see Keith come out of his shell like he had. The boy could _move._ How he’d hidden that – how he’d hidden how his eyes could keep Lance transfixed and forget everything around him – he would never know.

The drunken man giggled in the seat next to him as his head lolled against the window, condensation dripping onto his forehead and soaking his fringe without him caring to move it. He caught Hunk’s eye in the rear-view mirror and read the look silently. _Don’t take an asshole. Look after him._ He nodded and carefully pulled Keith away from the window by the sleeve of his shirt, so he lulled to the other side, head resting on his shoulder, but not otherwise disturbing him from his haze. With a quiet but content hum, Keith settled and stayed quiet for the whole ride.

“I’m literally just upstairs,” Hunk assured Lance as the elevator reached Keith’s floor. “Just try not to let him die before Shiro gets here to check on him,”

Lance nodded and gently slipped an arm around the hunched-over figure of Keith to help him walk as they left the elevator. “You really know how to party, Mullet,” He muttered, carefully leading the drunken man to his door. When he realised that the door was locked securely, he sighed and patted at the pockets of Keith’s shirt, only to bring another giggle from him as he pulled the keys from the back pocket of his jeans.

“You have pretty eyes,” Keith muttered into Lance’s arm as he unlocked the door. Lance felt his face heat up, but smiled nonetheless, trying to draw his focus more on getting Keith into his apartment safely.

“When did you notice that, before, after, or as you were about to throw up on me?” He asked quietly, helping him into the apartment and quickly closing the door. As the light was switched on, the pair of them were immediately greeted by the quiet meows of Keith’s cat, who had padded over to them from where she had been sleeping on the back of the sofa.

“Red,” Keith’s voice turned soft as he carefully knelt down on the floor to greet her, gently stroking her ears before lifting her into his arms happily. “I’m sorry I was gone so long…”

Now he wasn’t about to call the man crazy for talking to a cat; according to Shiro, Keith had never really been very good with people, so of course it made sense for him to find companionship with an animal as a substitute. He just found it a little unusual that he was talking to a cat as though it was a human. He’d ask questions that logically, a cat could not answer, yet the whole time he spoke and cuddled the orange ball of fur to his chest, Lance couldn’t help but watch with a soft gaze. Under the layers of anxiety and awkwardness, Keith was someone Lance would have happily befriended if he’d got to know him while they were at school together, and he mentally kicked himself for not realising this sooner.

“Lance,” Keith whined after a few minutes as Red walked back to her spot on the back of the sofa, leaving him knelt on the floor by himself. “Red says you need to come here,”

“Oh yeah?” He asked, carefully moving to help Keith back to his feet and feeling a smile curl onto his lips. He was uneasy himself, but could hold his alcohol much better, and had managed to sober up slightly with the intention of making sure that Keith was okay; a trait that was usually left to Hunk in their group of friends. “Did she say anything about you really needing to brush your teeth?”

He grumbled in response. “My mouth feels gross,”

With a chuckle, Lance helped Keith into the bathroom and fetched him a glass of water to rinse his mouth out with. Because he’d been wobbling from side to side the whole walk across the tiny apartment, the raven-haired man was sat on the edge of the bath as Lance encouraged him to brush his teeth. He hoped that it wouldn’t be a waste of time, but there was every chance that Keith’s alcohol tolerance would be low enough to warrant another hasty trip to the bathroom later.

It was only as Lance returned to the bathroom after fetching himself some water from the kitchen that he noticed that Keith was _that_ kind of drunk. His mouth automatically dropped open as he saw the sight of Keith Kogane, shirtless and struggling to wriggle out of his jeans (which, he noted, were way too tight to stop his mind from wandering places he did not intend after the turn of events that evening). He swallowed nervously and averted his eyes from the sight of the man stood there, very confidently, half naked in front of him.

Knowing what Keith had looked like when they went to school together, it was a shock to the system to now see him like this. Keith had once been the weedy nerd of the class; thick lens glasses, quiet, always trying to avoid confrontation. Lance would have never expected him to have changed so much. It was clear as day that he had the same interest as Shiro in terms of practically living at the gym – he looked so much stronger, with broader shoulders and perfectly toned arms and chest. Unconsciously, Lance kept catching himself staring, because Keith Kogane was _hot._

“See something you like?” Keith slurred, stumbling over slightly as he tried to pull his foot out of his jeans without falling over. Pushing any inappropriate thoughts aside, Lance got him to sit back down carefully, and gently helped him out of his jeans. He heard the other man giggle again, then reach for something on the side of the sink.

“What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep with these in,” He stood again, leaning over the sink and quickly got rid of the contact lenses he’d been wearing. It was only when Keith reached into the cabinet above the sink to retrieve the black framed glasses and carefully slide them onto his face that Lance truly realised what he’d missed out on in those years of not being there in school. Keith was incredibly attractive, and there was absolutely no denying it. At a second glance, he could have sworn that the contacts he had been wearing were coloured. Lance had no idea Keith’s eyes were so… Pretty.

“C’mon, time for bed,” He urged, carefully holding his hand out to Keith for the support if he should need it. He giggled again. “Not like that, Mullet. You’re way too wasted for that,”

“But you want to,” Keith drunkenly teased, leaning against him more than was necessary. Lance had to give himself some praise for having this much restraint.

“Maybe some other time. When you’re not drunk, and you know what you’re talking about,” He half-heartedly promised. Keith didn’t respond.

His bedroom was dimly lit, the only light being cast into the small room coming from the window to the side of the room near the bed, which was mostly covered by some sheer curtains that let in the soft glow of the city from outside. Everything was neat, and it was clear that Keith had spent time making sure everything was in it’s place, not strewn around the room carelessly like Lance did. Despite it’s tidiness, it was very suited to the other man. On the wall, posters with worn edges, clearly water damaged in places, were tacked up with careful precision, and in the corner sat a beautiful ebony acoustic guitar, the body plastered from the base in various stickers.

He spared another glance at the half-naked form of Keith Kogane, clutching his arm as though he’d fall through the floor if he let go. The man was such a mess when he was drunk, but something about that tangled mess of a mullet and suspiciously pretty eyes was drawing him in. With much less effort than he anticipated he would need, Lance picked Keith up and gently lay him down on his bed, watching his expression shift from confusion to shock before he realised that Lance was not planning on going any further.

“We’ll get you all sober in the morning, Mullet,” He promised, pushing his hair back out of his face. “Then you can regret everything, and it’ll be back to normal again. How does that sound?”

Keith frowned slightly. “You’re leaving,” He muttered. As Lance opened his mouth to protest, he continued. “It’s okay, I get it. People don’t like being around me much anyway. I understand,”

Lance felt a pang of guilt strike him right in the chest. Was he really insecure enough that he thought nobody wanted to be around him? “I was only gonna sleep on the couch,” He whispered. “I can’t just leave you to be all hungover and moody in the morning, can I? You’re gonna need looking after. I’m like the master at battling a hangover,”

Violet eyes gazed into his own. “I don’t like the dark,” He muttered. “I don’t drink because it makes me paranoid that there’s someone in my apartment and I freak out,”

“I can leave the light on for you if that helps,” Lance suggested, carefully sitting on the edge of his bed. “Or I’ll leave the door open so you know I’m just-“

Tears. He didn’t expect tears. “Please don’t leave me alone,”

“Hey… None of that… Come here, Mullet,” He shuffled closer, moving to sit up against the headboard and gently wrapped an arm around Keith’s shoulders. Instead of moving away like he expected, he carefully held onto the front of Lance’s shirt, clutching the fabric between his fingers and gently resting his head on his chest. “I’ll stay in here if you want me to, but you’re gonna need to put some clothes on… And… Shit, I don’t have any-“

Without a word, he watched as Keith shuffled over to the dresser and threw a pair of black sweatpants at him, then pulled on a similar pair himself before crawling back onto his bed and kicking the covers down. Lance hesitated for a moment, then slowly changed into them, leaving his jeans in a heap on the floor and shedding his alcohol-drenched shirt too.

“You’re warm,” Keith sleepily sighed as he settled back against Lance’s shoulder after carefully placing his glasses down on the dresser. “Like a big hot water bottle,”

Lance chuckled softly and carefully pulled the covers over the two of them, settling properly and making sure that Keith was comfortable. “Was that your way of calling me hot, Kogane?”

When there was no response other than even breathing and eventually, soft snores from Keith, Lance relaxed. Noticing that the black framed glasses were still resting on his nose, he carefully shifted enough to gently remove them and place them down on the nightstand before settling again silently, not wanting to disturb the now unconscious Keith who had attached himself to his arm. As days went, this one had been amazing, and he wouldn’t have changed anything if he had a second chance. Keith shifted in his sleep, tucking his head properly onto his shoulder more comfortably, and then went still, finally comfortable enough. The light cast shadows onto the ceiling as moved across the ceiling as he lay there, staring straight up at them.

After what felt like hours of trying to settle into unfamiliar surroundings, Lance drifted into a peaceful sleep, his arm tucked carefully around the man sleeping soundly against him and feeling, for the first time in weeks, content.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the usual purring that woke Keith the following morning, but the sound of snoring.

Mistaking the sound for that of some strange alarm that he’d forgotten to turn off, he sleepily patted at the pillow next to him in an attempt to find his phone and turn it off. Instead of finding the soft fabric of his bedding, however, he felt skin, and his eyes snapped open in an instant.

He groaned as he sat up, immediately having to close his eyes again as the light made his head hurt even more. He rubbed his eyes, noting that he’d at least remembered to take his contacts out the previous night and hadn’t made the mistake of sleeping in them again. Despite his blurry vision, he found the courage to turn to his left and see the damage of whatever had happened last night.

It was Lance.

Lance McClain was naked in his bed. His eyes widened momentarily before he very hesitantly lifted the covers. _Almost naked._ He thanked whatever his drunk self had done to make sure that nothing had happened, because god damn, if it did and he didn’t remember it, he’d hate every fibre of his being for the rest of his life. Thankfully, Lance was still soundly asleep, even after Keith’s abuse as he’d mistook his face for an alarm clock, which gave him time to try and piece together what had happened.

His last clear memory was drinking with Shiro at the bar, someone shouting Lance’s name, Hunk losing his headband in the crowd and people all stopping dancing to help him find it again… Then things went hazy. This was just one reason he had tried not to drink often. There had been so many occasions he’d passed out on the couch at Christmas parties back home or had a little too much to drink while at Shiro’s place as a teenager, that he’d given up on drinking for fear of doing something he regretted. Not that he thought any of the previous night was a regret, mind you.

In fact, from what he’d remembered, it had been one of his favourite memories to date. The gig, the lights and music of the nightclub, the dancing and singing until his throat was sore; there was nothing about his memories that he would even remotely regret. The only issue was that his recollection of the night had disappeared not long after a drink at the bar with Shiro and Matt. Had someone spiked him? And why was Lance in his bed?

Risking another glance back at the half-naked form sleeping in his bed, Keith sighed. He’d never brought anybody home before – at least, not while drunk. Although he was pretty sure nothing serious had happened, he couldn’t help but feel the anxiety take over as he considered what Lance’s reaction would be when he woke. Surely, if his alcohol tolerance was bad enough to make him black out too, he’d be disgusted.

His mind ran back to the events of the last few weeks; the first time he and Lance met was a morning much like this, only under much different circumstances. The main difference was that he remembered exactly what he had done the night before and had most definitely not blacked out. Then the coffee morning during Keith’s break – Lance had called it a date over text, but was he just winding him up? Did he know how much of a gay disaster Keith was and was he trying to mock him at all? Was all of this just a big mistake that Lance would want to forget about and never mention again? He tried his best to push those thoughts aside, just wishing he hadn’t got himself into this situation in the first place.

Yet he didn’t want to let a moment like this go to waste. Sure, he thought Lance was an idiot and tried to hard to get people’s attention sometimes. That didn’t mean he wasn’t attractive – and by that, he told himself mentally, he meant that the man was way out of his league. But there he was, sleeping right next to him. His hair looked soft, even after a night of drinking and his energetic performance at the gig, and he had to fight the urge to brush it back out of his face in case he woke him.

Instead of getting out of bed, he simply lay back down and turned away to face the wall, keeping his back to Lance. It would probably be less awkward if he just pretended to be asleep when he woke up anyway. Avoid any awkward conversations and save the talk of ‘ _did we sleep together?’_ for a time that he had preferably consumed some more liquid courage. Thoughts kept running through his mind, blurred memories of the night before that he couldn’t distinguish reality from his imagination. God, he really needed to get used to alcohol again if he intended on being good friend with Lance and the others. They really knew how to party, and he didn’t want to seem boring by not drinking with them.

Movement next to him caused his shoulders to tense up slightly and suddenly, he was only able to concentrate on what Lance was doing. The bed dipped, he was moving away, then footsteps. The chill of the cool air from outside the sheets hit his back and sent a shiver down his spine, but Keith remained still as he listened and waited to be sure that Lance was no longer in the room. After a few seconds of stillness, he slowly sat up, suddenly all too aware of his lack of shirt. His head pounded at the first sign of movement, but he fought through it, reaching over the side of the bed and grabbing the first discarded hoodie he could find and pulling it on.

There was a moment of consideration before he carefully got out of bed and walked toward the door. From the other side, he could hear the very faint sound of music. Cracking the door open slightly, Keith peeked through and across his apartment, only to see Lance stood in the kitchen, singing along to the radio almost too casually. His hair was messy and jutted up in all directions, and despite his clearly hungover state, he had the traces of that signature smile on his face.

“Are you singing Shakira in my kitchen?” Keith asked, looking amused at the sight. Lance turned and smiled wider as Keith took a seat at the breakfast bar, sleepily rubbing his eyes.

“No, I was singing Shakira in my apartment, but my talent just allowed me to teleport into your kitchen,” He said sarcastically, placing a cup of coffee on the counter in front of him. “Drink up. You look like shit,”

Keith rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee gratefully. “Thanks,” He muttered. Neither of them spoke for a moment as they drank, the sound of the host of the morning radio show speaking now softly filling the kitchen, not loud enough to worsen Keith’s throbbing headache. “I don’t even remember what happened last night…” He admitted quietly.

Lance paused in the middle of sipping his coffee and leant back against the counter. “Well you were pretty drunk…” He began, one arm folded across his chest as he spoke. Keith kept his head down. “I didn’t think you were the type to dance… You move like you’ve had some practice,”

His face felt hot with embarrassment but determined not to come across that way as he spoke, and so he dared to pry. “Lance, I need to know if anything happened last night…” He said with a sigh.

“Well plenty of things happened-“

“Specifics… I woke up and you were asleep in my bed so…” He trailed off, his voice quiet.

“Oh… Well you kind of almost vomited on my face, so me and Hunk brought you home,” He told him. “Then you kinda got upset when I went to sleep on the sofa… Nothing happened. You were way too drunk for anything like that anyway, and I’m not an asshole. You sort of… Just cuddled up to me and fell asleep,” Keith breathed a sigh of relief, this time not trying to hide the blush on his face at the thought.

“I was actually really worried you’d be mad that I got so drunk,” He admitted. “I’ve never really drank much… Not since I’ve lived on my own anyway,”

“You’re fun to drink with Keith,” Lance assured him with a smile. “But I think the tequila was a mistake for both of us. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,”

“Tell me about it,”

Awkwardness aside, the morning went by quickly, and Lance insisted on staying until Keith felt a little better. He seemed to feel right at home, occasionally walking into the kitchen and making them both more coffee – which Keith had to admit was made just how he liked it – and occasionally, he complained at the bleak décor of his apartment as though he was an expert in interior design. It didn’t offend him in the slightest.

“So,” Lance said as he collapsed back onto the sofa after grabbing some water from the kitchen. “I needed to ask, since we’re friends now and everything, and since we had a totally no homo cuddle while drunk last night-“

Keith tried not to snort at the phrase, but it was uncontrollable. “Really? That insecure about girls not being into you because you cuddled a guy?” He joked.

“Hey, we were both drunk. If I cared less about whether you wanted to be friends with us all, maybe it would have been that way,” He said simply, sipping his water. “What I was trying to ask, before I was rudely interrupted, was whether you’ll be coming to the next gig?”

He smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it,” Lance’s face lit up. “I didn’t quite get that backstage experience though, so that would be nice,”

Lance smirked. “You know how that works, Kogane,” He joked. “Groupies only get backstage if security find them cute enough,”

He rolled his eyes. “You really do want to be a rockstar don’t you?” He asked. “And here was me thinking you were more into the music than the people you could sleep with in the process of making it,”

Lance sat up, looking a little defensive. “I do care about the music. Of course I do. I wouldn’t be doing any of this if I thought this was some kind of joke,” He spoke evenly, brow furrowed slightly. “Look, I’m sorry if I come across that way to you, Keith, but this isn’t just a hobby to me. It pays my rent. It’s what I love to do and what I’ve always wanted, so don’t even try-“

“Hey… Calm down, loverboy,” Keith interrupted, his voice calm. Lance stopped speaking and pursed his lips. “I was joking. I can tell how much it means to you,”

His irritable attitude faded slightly. “Oh…”

“I know, I’m shit at making jokes, but what’s new?” He asked. “It’s not like I’ve had the longest time to perfect my sarcasm; I think other than Shiro and my work colleagues, you’re the first person who’s spoken to me who isn’t actually family in… Months actually…”

That, unfortunately, was true. Sticking with his introverted nature, Keith had not really left his apartment to do anything with his non-existent social life for so long that it hardly came to mind anymore. As often as he tried to justify it with the excuse of having to get through the next few seasons of his favourite shows, even to him, it sounded pathetic.

“Are you serious?” Lance asked. He nodded. “Keith, that’s insane… How are you even functioning right now?”

“I honestly just… Don’t think about other people as a need in my life. I’ve not exactly got the best track record when it comes to making friends,” He admitted with a sigh, folding his arms over his chest and slumping back into the corner of the sofa. He didn’t look at Lance, instead, turning his gaze to where Red had settled on a discarded pillow on the floor, her paws twitching in sleep as she dreamed. “I’m sorry if I come across mean or… Dismissive sometimes. I don’t want you to think I’m an asshole just because I’m not used to socialising,”

“But you’re doing a good job, Keith,” Lance praised. “You don’t have to put yourself out there for every social event that happens… I know that we kind of do shows and go out a lot, but if you’re not feeling up to socialising with us at any time, all you have to do is tell me. It’s no problem,”

Picking at one of the loose threads on the hem of his shirt, Keith sighed. “It’s not like I don’t want to. I do. I really do it’s just…” He leant his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “People used to think I was annoying to be around in school. In college I only spoke to my classmates when I had to, and now I just feel like I’m going to get under everyone’s feet,”

Lance frowned, sitting back slightly and mirroring Keith’s position in the opposite corner of the sofa. “Sometimes you’ve gotta piss people off to make a statement,” He said simply.

“Is that your advice?” He asked with a scoff. “Be an asshole and hope people like me for it?”

He shrugged. “It works for some people,”

“It works for people like Lotor,” Keith muttered sourly. “Why was that asshole even there last night? He’s way too rich to be pretending to enjoy himself at a place like Altea,”

“Ooooooh, someone has some opinions. You sound like you should have all sorts of gossip about him given that you work for him,” Lance teased. Keith rolled his eyes and shoed Lance’s knee with his foot. “But to answer your question, he’s scouting competition. Galra Tech have been trying to expand for years apparently; you know how it works, I’m sure. Altea isn’t just the name of the nightclub… It’s-“

“Competition…” Keith finished curiously. “But what was he about to find out that would help him by standing in a smoking area of a nightclub?”

Lance sighed. “I don’t know. You could probably come up with something if you asked Pidge. She’s really into making up dumb conspiracy theories,” He paused as he stretched his arms and legs out straight. “My guess is that he was looking for Allura. She runs the whole company,”

“Oh… Do you know her?” Keith asked. Lance nodded.

“She’s pretty cool. She hosted a few shows for us when we first started as a band, so she knows us all pretty well,” He explained casually. From the look on his face as he spoke of her, Keith could tell there were things Lance was keeping to himself. He decided not to pry. “Shit… Isn’t Shiro supposed to be here soon?”

Keith groaned, and as though Lance had just seen into the future, the door to his apartment opened to reveal a smiling Shiro, who was holding a handful of mail in his real hand. “Don’t look so happy to see me then,”

“I’m too hungover to deal with you trying to make me go to the gym today,” Keith whined. Shiro laughed softly and set the stack of letters down onto the coffee table. “Why is it still being sent to your place? I moved out ages ago,”

“You tell me. I thought you’d already changed your mail address,” Shiro replied with a chuckle. “Right, as long as you’re not dead and you don’t need to go to the hospital to have your stomach pumped, I’m gonna head off. I’ve got a meeting and-“

Lance groaned. “We get it, you’re more successful than I am, big deal. Go to your meeting,” He complained. Keith bit back a smile.

“He’s got a date, not a meeting,” Keith muttered.

“Keith!” Shiro gently shoved his brother’s arm. “You’re not supposed to say anything-“

“Wait, is it with Allura?” Lance asked quickly. Shiro gave him an unimpressed look, then turned to Keith. “What?”

“Yeah… It’s not Allura…” Keith said with a smile. “Shiro is way too gay for that,”

Lance’s eyes went wide. “Oh… I didn’t know…”

Shiro shrugged. “It never came up in conversation,” Walking into the kitchen, he took a bottle of water from the fridge and leaned against the door frame.

By the time Shiro had left and Lance had decided to head home, it had already got dark. With most of the day already wasted away, and nothing more to for him to do until he had to return to work the following day, he pulled out his laptop and browsed the internet for a couple of hours. It seemed almost a waste having to go back to work after the fun he’d had over the last few days, yet he knew that inevitably, it was the only thing that was going to pay his rent. In the back of his mind, he could faintly hear himself bring up the point that Lance was doing just fine without having a job, but that was a different case entirely. Lance was doing what he loved to make money, while Keith – well… Keith was doing what he had to do to get by.

He turned in before midnight as usual after taking a shower, uncomfortably noting how he stuck to one side of the bed, and left the side Lance slept completely cold and empty.


	8. Looking Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance starts to get used to the drag of his 9-5 job at Sal's coffee shop, only to find that it would give him more opportunities than he could have ever wished for.
> 
> Meanwhile, Keith debates his happiness and security within his own job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still updating? Shocker

****

“Who’s next?” Lance sighed monotonously as he approached the counter again after finishing his last coffee. Working at Sal’s coffee shop wasn’t as bad as he expected it to be, but it was only his first full week and already he had started to see the problems. First, he was constantly tired, despite being surrounded by the scent of fresh coffee all day, and the jealousy he had of the artsy looking students who had the chance to curl up in one of the empty booths was starting to get out of control. Secondly, his 15-minute breaks were hardly enough with all the running around from table to table he’d been doing all week, and his feet ached. More than anything, he just wanted to be able to take a sit down while there were hardly any customers around and caffeinate himself, but Sal was having none of it.

But as he looked up from the counter to see a familiar face, Lance felt a smile curl onto his lips. “Just a double espresso please,” Keith’s voice was rough, and he looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept well, or he’d simply gone without sleep for the last couple of days. “In fact, make that two…”

Lance chuckled as he started to prepare his drinks. “Rough night, or do you always look like you’ve skipped 2 weeks of sleep?” He asked. Keith leant on the counter and rubbed his face.

“I spent all last night filing paperwork for Lotor because I’m apparently not working hard enough,” He complained. Lance frowned. “And to make it worse, I’ve had my wages cut and if I don’t get everything done, I’m gonna lose my job,”

“Jesus, Keith…” Lance felt his face fall a little as he placed the coffee down on the counter. “Surely he can’t do that…”

Keith nodded as he took his wallet out and paid for his coffee. “It’s not just me. My uncle works in the same department and he’s had the work piled on too,” He sighed. “Suddenly my degree seems like it’s gone to waste and I’m just… Stuck where I least wanted to be,”

Lance gave him a soft smile. “Think of the positives buddy…” He told him. “If I didn’t even finish high school and got a job, you can find a new one if you need it. And I’m pretty sure Shiro won’t let you starve to death. You’ve got people you can fall back on, including us,”

“You don’t have to look out for me, Lance…” He muttered, lifting his gaze up from his feet. “But thank you…”

“Anytime, mullet,” He assured.

“I’ll probably see you later,” Keith mentioned casually as he downed one of the two coffees in his hand. “You make good coffee and I’m gonna need it today if I want to get everything done on time,” With a quiet goodbye, Keith smiled at him through his misery and left the shop, and Lance watched as he crossed the street and disappeared out of view.

“Mcclain, can you do a run around of the tables before the next rush please?” Sal’s voice snapped from seemingly nowhere, catching him off guard as he started to drift out of focus. “Don’t make me change my mind about keeping you on after you ran up that tab and caused the damage,”

“Sure… I promise you won’t regret it, Sal,” He called, much more enthusiastically than he intended, grabbing a cloth and cleaning supplies before quickly heading around the counter and beginning to clean up without another word.

As he worked, Lance’s mind filled with all of the things he could be doing instead of scrubbing sticky coffee stains from the wooden tables. It had been nearly 2 weeks since their first show of the year, and so far, Matt had found them no other slots that they could take on such short notice. His guitar sat gathering dust in the corner of his bedroom, even though he insisted on at least 3 hours of practice a day.

It almost felt like the band wasn’t as important to his friends as it used to be. Way back before Shiro’s accident, everybody had seemed so enthusiastic about making it – they’d planned to go on tour, leave the states and maybe travel to Europe. Lance spend hours writing shitty songs with Shiro, just so they had something to fall back on, because no band wants to stay a cover band forever. As time went on, that stopped. Shiro was busy all the time, Hunk hardly touched his drum kit outside of rehearsals, and Pidge was glued to her computer and focussing more on her job than she was on the band.

Of course, he understood completely. They just didn’t see what he did. Lance knew there was something about them that made their music unique, but inevitably, there was always something missing. Even before Shiro lost his arm, there was something not quite right, but he could never put his finger on it. They had charm and talent, and he knew that his stage presence was enough to keep the crowd entertained, but what else could there be for them to change that would help them make it?

Thankfully, his shift that day was not a closing shift, and so by the time he finished at four, it was only starting to get dark. He grabbed his bag and changed out of his uniform in the back, before waving goodbye to Sal and shoving his headphones into his ears as he headed for the door. It was only as he looked up from his phone that he bumped into somebody familiar.

“Oh shit… I’m so sorry…” Lance apologised as he caught settled his hands on Allura’s shoulders to steady her. “I’m not even in my own head today, I think my brain leaked out of my ears while I was asleep,”

Allura smiled at him. “Not to worry, Lance. It was my fault for not looking where I was going,”

It had been a few months since he’d last seen Allura. Knowing she was a busy woman, he didn’t like to push his luck for fear of her straight up rejecting him on the spot, but he’d always had a soft spot for her for as long as he’d known her. She looked more relaxed than she had in a long time, the bags that had been present under her eyes before now completely gone. She didn’t seem half as rushed off her feet as she had been before Christmas.

“Could I maybe get you a coffee? I uh… Staff discount...” Lance explained awkwardly. Allura just chuckled at him and nodded.

“I’d like that,”

Before Sal could even get the counter, he ducked under and took out his wallet, placing a few notes next to the register and starting to make the drinks himself. Sal gave him a confused look but didn’t question what he was doing as he continued to serve the customers around Lance and slipped the money into the cash register. He quickly brought the drinks over to a free table by the window and made sure to pull the chair out for Allura before taking a seat himself.

“I actually wanted to talk to you,” Lance admitted after a moment. Allura looked up from her coffee curiously. “Did you hear about our last gig selling out? I know you’ve been out of town for a while or busy but-“

“I did,” She interrupted, smiling. “If this is going where I think it is, I’m going to guess that you need a bigger venue to perform at soon,” Lance blinked as he listened to her speak. Maybe he was easier to read than he thought.

“How did you-“

“You gave up on the flirting years ago, Lance. I doubt you’d start again now. I know how much Voltron means to you, and if you need it, you’re welcome to book a few shows at Altea to see how things go,” She told him. “On one condition,”

He frowned. “What condition?”

“You need to find a lead guitarist,” She said cautiously. Lance groaned and slumped in his seat. “I know you’re reluctant to, but I really think it’s what’s best for the band. Besides, you do too much work for one person to be able to handle anyway. It might take some of the pressure off you,”

She was right, of course, but that didn’t mean that he liked the idea at all. Finding a lead guitarist would mean that Lance would share the stage with someone potentially more skilled and charismatic than he was, and the thought of losing out on the only thing that he felt confident about made his stomach feel uneasy.  Despite his insecurities, he nodded once. It was the right thing to do.

“Because all great bands have five members, right? Okay, I’ll start looking this afternoon,” He agreed, holding his hand out to shake. Allura smiled and shook his hand firmly. “You’ll be doing us a huge favour, Allura,”

“I’ll text you the details about bookings, because I can see how eager you are to get in on this. You’re not the only one who thinks your band can go to bigger places, Lance,” She told him as she finished her coffee. He looked up from his own cup in surprise. “You’re all very talented. I’ll speak to my father if you can get to selling out at Altea. He’ll definitely see your potential then,”

And with that, she thanked him for the coffee and left the shop. Lance blinked a few times before coming to his senses. _Did she just offer us a record deal if we can sell out Altea?_ The thoughts raced in his mind and his heart hammered in his chest at the idea of it all. This would be their big break! He had to tell Hunk and Pidge, and let Shiro know-

He grabbed his bag and sprinted out of the shop, not even bothering to call a cab back to his apartment block. Within ten minutes, he was bursting through the door and rushing around in excitement, only to find that Hunk was not home yet. Instead of waiting around doing nothing, he showered and immediately sat down on the floor of the kitchen with his acoustic guitar and notebook. The sudden burst of inspiration to start writing came out of nowhere, but he could hardly complain. It wasn’t often that he was in such high spirits that he had the motivation to write, so while it lasted, he skimmed through his lyric book and made some changes to a few songs he’d already written.

After an hour or so, his phone rang and knocked the inspiration straight from him. Nyma’s name on the screen made his stomach turn, but he didn’t want to ignore the call. Instead, he reached across the tiled floor and answered the call, setting his guitar aside and leaning back against one of the cupboards as he spoke.

“Are you busy today?” She asked him after the initial greetings. “If you are, don’t worry about it, but I wondered whether you wanted to catch up properly since you don’t have a gig today,”

Lance smiled but couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive. On one hand, he wouldn’t have minded meeting up with Nyma for an hour or two – hell, he was getting pretty lonely in the apartment on his own and had no idea when Hunk would be back, so at least it would pass the time and give him some company. On the other, he wasn’t exactly sure where he stood with Nyma after seeing her after the show. Her words might have hurt him, but surely, she didn’t mean it. People said a lot of things when they were angry or upset about something, and Lance was almost certain that this was the case with Nyma; the breakup must have been harsh on her too, after all.

“I can meet you if you want,” He replied after a moment. “Got a place in mind or do you want me to come and find you?”

Nyma laughed. “Meet me at the park. Same spot as always,”

 _Ah._ He thought. _It’s that kind of meet up._

With the weather not much warmer than it had been earlier on, Lance quickly pulled on a hoodie and his coat before grabbing his keys and heading out. The park was a few blocks away but had always been the place he went if he needed to talk to somebody about anything that was on his mind, or more recently, to keep the drug use away from the apartment so Hunk’s girlfriend didn’t catch on. It wasn’t like Shay didn’t approve of it, but Lance could not deny the look of discomfort on her face whenever she caught the scent in the apartment. Out of respect, and some guilt admittedly, he had started going out whenever he felt the need to get high.

He arrived at the park and walked down the dirt path to the right before slumping down into his usual spot; a rickety wooden bench which overlooked the lower areas of the park which just happened to be the same place that he had his first kiss, and always went back to when he had a lot on his mind. He and Nyma met in the same place whenever she wanted to see him. It never worked the other way around – Nyma was a busy woman and he knew that if he contacted her while she was working, he’d probably be shot down. Instead, he let her decide when she wanted to meet him. It suited him just fine.

When she arrived, Lance felt relief wash over him. He’d half expected her to stand him up, but instead, Nyma took a seat next to him silently and gave him a small smile. She hadn’t been the first person he fell for, but he still felt a connection to her despite what had happened between them. She was still so beautiful in his eyes. That would never change.

“Hey, stranger,” She greeted. Lance smiled and sat back, relaxing at the casual nature of conversation already. I didn’t think you’d agree to see me after the other night-”

“It’s in the past, don’t worry about it,” He assured her. Her words had hurt him, but that didn’t matter as much to him now. She was here, that was all that mattered. “You look stressed,”

Nyma let out a small, awkward chuckle. “That’s usually why we meet here,”

Lance sighed. “I know… But what’s the real reason, Nyma?” He asked.

She hesitated. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lance,” She took a drag of the half-smoked cigarette in her hand. “This is the usual spot. We both come here when we need to just relax-”

“Then why do I get the feeling you have some kind of motive behind asking me here tonight?” He interrupted. “Because I was pretty certain you didn’t really want much to do with me after last time,”

Nyma sighed and shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder gently. He didn’t move away, knowing that the gesture really didn’t mean anything more than simple comfort for her. “I still care about you a lot, you know…”

“You have a funny way of showing it,” He retorted dryly. She looked up at him, and their eyes met for a moment before she gently touched his cheek and brought her lips to his. Where there was once a spark, Lance felt almost nothing. His feelings were so conflicted that he couldn’t even focus on the kiss, but he let it happen nonetheless. When Nyma pulled back and frowned slightly, he knew that it meant nothing more than a final goodbye to her.

“I met someone…” She whispered, face still only inches away from his own and eyes averted from his own. Lance nodded a little, letting his forehead rest on hers. “I’m sorry, Lance,”

Despite the twisting in his gut, the jealousy and sadness, he found it in him to smile. “He’d better be good to you,”

Nyma paused before looking up into his eyes once more. “You’re not mad?”

He shook his head and pulled back. “No,” He muttered. “I miss you, but I want you to be happy. That’s more important than me being selfish and trying to keep you to myself after we broke up. If you’re happy, I’m happy,”

They didn’t talk much after that. Instead, Lance made up an excuse to head home and shoved his hands into his pockets, leaving the park in the opposite direction to his apartment in the hope that the walk would help to clear his head a little. The streets were quiet, but he still saw the odd familiar face and put on his best fake smile to keep up the front that everything was okay. The kiss was bittersweet in his mind, but he had to forget it. Nyma had found somebody else, and he couldn’t get in the way of that, no matter how difficult it might be to distance himself while seeing her with him.

For the rest of the evening, he made the necessary arrangements with Matt and told his bandmates about his conversation with Allura over their group chat, letting them know about the deal he’d made with her after work. When he returned home, Hunk was already preparing their usual movie night and had ordered pizza for the two of them. It was the perfect distraction, even if he did fall asleep only 10 minutes in. Sleep was his best option to stop himself from thinking, after all.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Keith rushed across the street in the hope that his venture to get the much-needed coffee would not make him any later than he already was. He almost regretted staying up so late to get his reports finished the previous night, even if it meant that he’d have less work to do for the rest of the day today. It was only a few more days until the weekend rolled around and he had the chance to relax again – if he could even call spending time with his new friends a form of relaxation, that is.

The elevator was packed, as usual, but as usual, Thace made it in just a few seconds before it left and shuffled over to Keith. He looked just as tired as Keith felt; dark circles under his eyes and looking generally unhappy, it was strange to see his uncle so drained. He was obviously not the only one of them who was struggling to keep up with Lotor’s new deadlines.

“2 hours,” He grumbled. “I slept for 2 damn hours last night. Ulaz had to throw a book at me to make me go to sleep,”

Keith hummed. “I need another coffee. I’m not even sure if today is worth the caffeine crash I’m gonna have later,” Where Thace would usually laugh or make some witty comment, he just grunted and stepped out of the elevator at their floor. Keith frowned slightly.

They walked to their desks in silence, only to be greeted with another sky-high pile of paperwork to be filled out between them. Keith closed his eyes and sighed before sinking down into his chair and shrugging his coat off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Thace glaring across the office at the culprit. Lotor stood near the coffee machine, talking casually with another one of the higher-ups, a grin on his face and as cheerful as ever. _Oh to be rich and have no worries._ He thought to himself.

“I swear, one day I’m gonna knock that bastard’s head off his shoulders,” Thace spat under his breath. Keith bit back a smile as he loaded up his computer and started to flick though his paperwork. “Have you noticed how it’s only us who have the extra work? Sendak is ass-kissing, all of marketing is talking like there’s not work to be done, and here we are, sat behind the cause of deforestation while they laugh it all off,”

With a little more force than necessary, Thace dropped his bag onto his desk and pulled out his laptop. “Whether it’s fair or not, I need to pay my rent and be able to feed my cat, so it’s probably best we don’t complain too loudly,” Keith sighed. Thace reluctantly agreed, and in an infuriating silence, the two of them started working.

After an hour or so, Keith had made a sizable dent in his reports and sat back in his chair, rubbing his face and pushing his glasses up his nose. The extent of his exhaustion had meant that his ‘5 more minutes’ of sleep that morning gave him no time to put his contacts in, but that was the least of his worries. It was only when he sat back in his chair that he noticed Lotor approaching his desk with a very smug look on his face. Deciding not to give him any satisfaction, Keith simply started flicking through his paperwork again wordlessly.

“Kogane,” Lotor greeted, leaning against the side of the office cubicle casually. He seemed as cocky and egotistic as ever, but Keith’s mind wandered back to the night he ran into him in Altea, and suddenly, he didn’t feel as intimidated as he usually would. “You’ve been working hard,”

Keith held back from rolling his eyes, as much as he wanted to. “Just doing my job,” He muttered, taking another file and updating it on his computer as Lotor watched. “Something has to pay the rent,”

Lotor chuckled and folded his arms. “I would have thought you’d be slacking now you’re more involved with your new friends,” He mused, the same smug grin on his face. Keith’s brow furrowed slightly. “How long will it be before you leave the company to join Voltron?”

Keith shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere,” He deadpanned. “We’re all friends, but that’s all. It’s not like I’m ready to make a career change now anyway,”

Lotor stayed silent for a moment. “Well… I have to say I’m surprised. You seemed to be enjoying Mr. Mcclain’s company when I saw you that night,”

Keith took a moment to take a breath before looking up at Lotor with narrowed eyes. “Do you have some kind of problem with my friends?”

“Not at all… I’d just hate to see your priorities split at such an important time,” Lotor glanced knowingly at Sendak from across the office and smirked. “Especially with the promotion you’ve been selected for,”

He blinked in confusion. “Promotion?”

“Yes, Keith. I think your expertise could be used far more efficiently at a higher rank within the company. If you’ll accept, I’d like to bring you in for an interview for the new role at some time next week,” He explained. Keith let his mouth drop open in surprise. It was very obvious that he worked a lot harder than the majority of the other people in his department – but so did Thace, who was currently listening in on the conversation as he worked.

Lotor left his desk without waiting for his response, leaving him sat back in his seat, slack jawed and confused. He was certain that Lotor would ask him to clear his desk out for not being as far ahead with his work as he’d have liked, but to receive the complete opposite treatment was a shock to say the least. He closed his mouth and turned to Thace, who was now glaring after Lotor.

“Did you know about this?” Keith whispered. Thace shook his head.

“He’s scheming… I’ve seen him do the same for years, Keith. Strategy is what got him where he is, not his dad’s money,” Thace muttered. “This company is a joke. I’ve been working two jobs for too long now. I think it’s time I stopped playing double agent,”

Keith’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re leaving?”

Thace nodded. “I suggest you do the same if you don’t want to be caught up in this game of theirs. Taking Lotor’s word is about as safe as making a deal with the devil,”

Having never seen his uncle so angry before, Keith thought about the events of the day on his way to the gym later that evening, mind filled with unanswered questions. He was tempted to call Thace and ask for more details about Lotor but thought it best not to know too much before he found a new job. He didn’t want to lose too much, and a lawsuit form Galra Tech was the last thing he needed with his already slim pay check only just giving him the money to cover his rent.

Desperate to get it off his chest, he told Shiro everything that was on his mind as each of them took to the treadmills. As exhausted as he felt, it was good for him to blow off some steam with a run. Shiro listened to him as he ranted about his day, as he always had. It was only as the two of them were heading home that Shiro changed the subject.

“Voltron has been offered some kind of tour deal,” He told Keith excitedly. He felt a smile form on his face a his brother explained. “Allura spoke to Lance today. Apparently, she was perfectly fine with us starting with a few shows at Altea, and we might be able to pick up on a tour that’s travelling through around the same time too,”

“That’s great. You’ve worked for it, I’m glad that you’ve finally got the chance you’ve been waiting for,” He said with a genuine smile. Shiro looked at the ground sheepishly. “Okay, I know that look. What’s the catch?”

Shiro sighed. “There was one condition, and we aren’t sure we can meet it in time,”

Keith furrowed his brow. “Is this going where I think it is?”

“I’m not gonna pressure you,” Shiro told him. “You’re talented, Keith. Before college you were so dedicated to your guitar and you always loved going to gigs with me… Why don’t you just come to one rehearsal and see where it goes? If you aren’t feeling it, don’t worry,”

He was hesitant. Shiro had asked him to join his band shortly after his recovery, but Keith had been so apprehensive and nervous about meeting new people that he had immediately shut his brother down when he’d mentioned it. Of course, now he knew them, it wouldn’t be so awkward for him to try out for the band, but did he want to just waltz in and take even the smallest amount of limelight from them when they’d already worked so hard? Wouldn’t it just look like he was waiting for the opportunity to steal the fame they had already?

“I don’t know, ‘Kashi…” Keith muttered. “Would I really fit in? And before you say anything, I know that I’ve met everybody already but… You’ve been friends with them all a lot longer than I have. It kind of seems wrong to just… rain on your parade I guess…”

With a soft smile, Shiro wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Y’know… None of the others have heard you play yet… I think they’ll be impressed enough to ask you themselves,”

“You think so?”

“Yep. Now come on… You have a monster in your apartment that might attack me again if I don’t let you leave soon,” He joked. Rolling his eyes, Keith pulled himself out of the one-armed hug and grabbed his helmet. “Just… Bring your guitar with you next time you come to meet us all. I promise nobody will be mean,”

“I don’t know…” Keith sighed. “Maybe,”

That seemed good enough for Shiro.

With a weight off his shoulders, Keith drove home to finally get a full night of sleep, though Shiro’s words remained on his mind until he slipped into a dreamless sleep.


End file.
